


HHH: Prince of Thieves

by harrypanther



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robin Hood, Betrayal, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Non-Graphic Violence, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 79,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7213102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrypanther/pseuds/harrypanther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While away fighting wars against the pirates, King Stoick's brother has stolen the throne and his son, Prince Hiccup, is a wanted outlaw with a high price on his head. Can Hiccup and his band of outlaws hide in Raven's Point Forest and protect the people? Can they restore the rightful King or will the evil Sheriff of Berkingham capture them and end all hope? Robin Hood style AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Usurpation

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I don't own How To Train Your Dragon. Rights remains with Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks. Robin Hood is a traditional British folk story and any resemblance to any theatrical work based on this source material is purely coincidental.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The idea came to me while watching Robin Hood (the Disney one) over Easter. If a fox can be Robin Hood, why not our favourite Viking? Obviously, there will be NO twee animals and certainly no sign of any lions, tigers, boa constrictors, vultures, rhinos, hippos or any other completely ridiculous anachronistic species (I live in the UK not that far from Sherwood Forest and I can tell you now there aren't ANY of those wandering around!) The characters in this will be human (apart from Toothless…) and RTTE age. And there will be NO Disney-style singing!

The noises were quiet at first: the cessation of conversations, the swish of crossbow bolts and thuds of impacts but they were enough to rouse the Prince as he lay sprawled on his bed, grabbing a final five minutes before he was due to rise. He always woke early because Toothless, his most faithful friend and protector, would not allow any sort of a lie in when he needed his morning exercise. He sighed, flung his arm above his head and listened.

Another noise sounded, closer and Toothless raised his head, ears pricked and teeth bared in a silent growl. Hiccup sat up, lithe and alert, his forest green eyes focussed on the door. His tousled dark auburn hair was caught by a stray beam of the sun between the heavy curtains, highlighting the few lighter copper hairs mixed among the unruly mop. Then he was up, his lanky shape moving with purpose, almost silent as he leaned against the door and listened. There was breathing out there, people closing and he gestured to Toothless to guard the door as he frantically dragged on his dark green hose, lighter green tunic and brown leather armour. He had just slipped his boots on and grabbed his sword and dagger as the handle to the door to his room started to turn.

Scarcely breathing, the young prince ducked behind the door, motioning his protector to stand by him as the door opened a crack and four crossbow bolts thudded into the dent on the mattress which had only just been vacated by him. The would-be murderer poked his head into the room and saw he had missed so he shoved the door further open and walked forward. The Prince raised his sword and slammed the hilt onto the man's head, knocking him witless. Noting his would-be killer was wearing the King's livery, the Prince moved swiftly as the traitor hit the floor with a thud, his head snapping round to look into the corridor. Two more men stood out there, over the bodies of their loyal comrades and they spotted the familiar shape of the Prince immediately.

"There he is! Get him!"

Hiccup groaned and ducked from the door, heading directly across the corridor to the window. Before the men could react, he flung his arms across his face and leapt through the window, his legs freewheeling as he dropped almost twenty feet to the roof of the cloistered walk below. He rolled, his left ankle turning and sprang up, hissing gently in pain. The jet shape of Toothless soared down and landed lightly by him, growling. Hiccup cast him a jaundiced glance.

"Yeah, yeah, it's alright for you, useless wolf!" he grumbled, limping to the edge and leaping down. Crossbows whiffled past his ears as he ducked to avoid them taking his head off. "Wow, someone got out of the wrong side of the bed today!" he noted.

Shouts began to sound and there was the sound of fighting as soldiers-he hoped they were loyal to his father, King Stoick the Vast-began to defend the Royal family against the attackers. Hiccup ducked back and tried to get his breath. He had no idea what was going on but it was clear that Berkingham Castle couldn't have been infiltrated by the traitors without inside help. He swallowed: it wasn't an appetising thought. Stoick was respected and loved by his subjects but there were always the malcontents and enemies that any kingdom harboured. Hiccup could think of Mildew the Unpleasant, Silent Sven of Westcliffe and of course, the King's brother, Lord Spitelout in Berk as well as the nobles from neighbouring kingdoms and the borderlands-Alvin the Treacherous, Dagur the Deranged, Viggo and Ryker Grimborn and Drago the Dark, Prince of Blood. He swallowed: any or all of them could be involved in the attack.

He shook himself. He knew who he would trust with his life and he knew his priority was to get to safety: it would help no one if he was taken or slain. He had been drilled by his tutor, Gobber the Belch, his father's Right Hook Man, right from when he was a small runty princeling, about what he should do in the event of an attack-no matter his instinct to fight and defend his home.

"Yer job, lad, is ter survive and continue the Royal Line-no matter what ye may want!"

"But, Gobber-I am the King's son. I should be there, fighting with my soldiers and defending Berk!"

"When yer the King, mebbe, but until then, son, yer Dad wants yer to be safe and secure the succession!"

He blinked and almost smiled at the bluff response of his mentor-then he nodded to Toothless and they ran round the back of the kitchens, heading for the stables. He had an emergency pack hidden in a grain bin in the main stables, which he grabbed and then hurdled over the stall dividers into the stall of Fury, his midnight black stallion. Hiccup had been taught to do everything for himself, unlike the pampered existence of his cousin, so he was swift in saddling his horse and had his packs stowed before he became aware he wasn't alone. He swung his head round and heard breathing on all sides: he was surrounded. He gestured to the wolf and the creature whined, then slunk through the flap into the next stall, burrowing in the hay as he had been trained. Hiccup tested the girth as he heard men enter the stall.

"Stand away from the horse, brother." Hiccup sighed and straightened up, his lean and lanky shape a little slumped.

"Hello, Dagur," he said. "I guessed you would be here somewhere." The tall, powerfully muscled soldier closed on Hiccup's leaner shape and grinned. Dagur wore black leather armour emblazoned with a Skrill dragon emblem, his carrot-red hair cropped short and pale green eyes wild. Three deep scars cut across his left eye from the forehead to the cheek-a momento of the day he had tried to drown Hiccup when the Heir was younger. Toothless had saved the Prince that day so Hiccup wasn't surprised when the invader swung his head around.

"Where's your little pooch?" he sneered. "I owe him a debt." Hiccup smirked.

"I think he may have gone on this morning run," he suggested lightly. "If you come back in a couple of hours, he may be back…" Dagur lunged forward, his meaty fist grabbed the Prince's slender throat and he choked, his eyes widening.

"I think we'll discuss this now…" he growled and lifted his fist. The man at his side-Savage-cleared his throat.

"My Lord, the Prince's instructions were explicit," he reminded his master. "He wishes to see the Prince immediately!" Dagur tightened his grasp for a long moment, then released Hiccup, who coughed and staggered back a pace-before his arms were bruisingly grasped by two of Dagur's men. Hiccup was jerked forward, his sword left behind with his saddled horse.

"Prince?" he asked. "Hmm. Have I just developed a brother I was unaware of? I thought I was the only…"

"That smart mouth will get you into a world of trouble!" Dagur snapped, his fists bunching. Hiccup watched him with a small smile: he knew Dagur had a short fuse and he knew he could exploit it-once he knew exactly what he was facing. He was hauled back across the yard and into the main castle. It was strange, being a prisoner escorted through familiar corridors now manned by soldiers in foreign uniforms and men in the livery of his own house, dragging away the bodies of their loyal colleagues. Hiccup's face hardened: he wondered exactly who had betrayed his home. Then he was thrust into the Great Hall and he stared at the Throne at the end, under the black dragon banner of House Haddock. And his green eyes widened with anger and hatred.

The stocky jet-haired shape of Spitelout was sitting smugly in his father's seat, wearing his father's crown and commanding his father's castle. Spitelout, his father's half-brother who had been favoured and loved by Stoick and indulged in his excesses. Spitelout who was brutal and venal and covetous-and, it now seemed, a traitor.

Hiccup sighed. The man had despised Hiccup for all his life as a runt and disappointment to his father and his line-and, to be fair, Hiccup had always been small and slight from birth, though he was also brave, determined and very smart. But two years ago, he had hit his growth spurt finally and he had shot up, topping both his uncle and cousin easily, though he had remained lanky and lean. And he had trained more than they would ever guess to gain his skills in weapons and horsemanship as well as the hours he had put in working in the forge with his mentor learning to maintain and develop new weapons. His body was toned and strong-just not the massive, muscular outline they considered ideal. He knew they saw only a lanky fishbone, not the fighter and tactician he had become and he hoped and prayed that would be his advantage. Because, gods knew, he had precious little else on his side at the moment.

"Uncle, what's going on?" he asked in a weary voice. Spitelout sneered and gestured. Hiccup was expecting the slap to the face but it still hurt. Note to self-duck when someone wearing an armoured metal gauntlet wants to smack you in the mouth, he reminded himself silently, tasting blood. "That's not an answer!" he added, slightly thickly. Spitelout nodded and Hiccup felt his legs kicked from under him and he crashed to the floor. He sighed. "Still not an answer," he persisted.

"You are accused to treason!" Spitelout announced.

Hiccup gawped. It wasn't a princely thing to do but sometimes, even his control slipped and he frowned. "Where did I fit that in my busy schedule?" he asked sarcastically. Dagur kicked him in the side and he exhaled painfully. "OW!" he whined.

"I have uncovered evidence that you were planning to seize the throne in the absence of your father and install yourself as King of Berk!" Spitelout announced. Hiccup frowned as he was hauled to his feet by the scruff of his neck.

"Hmm, don't remember that," he retorted. "Are you sure you're not reading your own diary, Uncle?" Dagur slammed his fist into his side and the Prince winced.

"Lord Dagur-please exercise restraint," Spitelout ordered. "We don't want the traitor dead before his execution!" Hiccup's eyes narrowed.

"If you believed I was plotting treason, why have you assumed the Throne, Spitelout?" Hiccup asked him directly. "Why haven't you maintained my father's loyal council?" Spitelout sat forward and rubbed his chin, a nasty smile lifting his mouth.

"Regrettably, the Council has been shown to be involved in the plot so they have already answered to the axeman!" he announced. Hiccup felt his stomach drop then: his father's most loyal supporters-all dead? He found himself breathing hard in shock, his head spinning.

"So you have murdered the council, are about to execute the Prince and have stolen the throne," he said angrily. "There is another name for this, Spitelout. And it isn't legal: it is called Usurpation. You have stolen my father's throne. But he remains the King of Berk and when Stoick the Vast returns, he will kick your treacherous ass!" Dagur grabbed his hair and hauled his head back, exposing his throat and resting a knife hard against his skin.

"Should I silence his lying tongue, your Majesty?" he asked coldly. Spitelout stared at the lanky shape of the Prince and smiled.

"No-the executioner will silence him," he said coldly. "What makes you ever think your father would live to set foot on the shores of Berk again?" Hiccup swallowed, fear suddenly beginning to grip his heart. He suddenly realised how well his uncle had prepared for this day and how comprehensively they had been outmanoeuvred. He wondered just how many allies his uncle had gathered against the rightful King. And whether there was anyone left loyal to his father.

"The people won't accept you as their King," he said roughly. "Stoick is loved by his people. They will rise against you!"

Spitelout laughed in his face, his expression cruel. His icy blue eyes swept over the lean shape of the Prince and smiled at his bravery. "Even if they tried, I have powerful allies who will crush them, Prince Hiccup!" he sneered. "But of this hour, you are no longer a Prince. As of this moment, I declare you a traitor and an outlaw. I remove all your rights and privileges. Your land and possessions are restored to the crown and are hereby bestowed upon my son, Lord Snotlout. Your crimes carry the sentence of death." Hiccup took a quick breath, feeling his entire life collapse. He watched as Spitelout rose to his feet to pass his sentence. "Take him to the block!"

Struggling against his captors, Hiccup felt himself dragged away, the grips fierce on his arms. All the guards looked at him with pity and distain, as if he was nothing. And, he realised, he no longer was of any consequence: he literally was nothing. He glanced around and gave a soft whistle, earning himself another harsh slap. He winced and felt his cheek bruise. Then he was out in the courtyard, his boots sliding over the smooth cobbles as the was hauled to up the steps onto the wooden platform and the block. And his heart lightened a touch as he saw the familiar bulky shape with the outrageous plaited blond moustache standing there, waiting for his death also. Hiccup flashed a despondent smile.

"Hey, Gobber," he said. His mentor turned to look at him. Gobber sported a black eye and a tear in his chainmail but the bulky shape was straight and proud with his peg leg and hook left hand. His blue eyes twinkled but his expression was grim.

"Laddie-yer couldn't manage to do as yer were told!" he sighed.

"Hey, Gobber-I did my best but I guess they were already tipped off about our back-up plan," he sighed. Gobber looked across the yard.

"Yeah-there seem to have been a lot of people changing their allegiances today," he said as the axemen walked forward. Spitelout and Dagur had appeared at the balcony, observing the scene with very interested gazes. Dagger had managed to get himself a pitcher of wine and had poured a goblet for Spitelout, while he was chugging directly from the pitcher. Two guards hauled Gobber back and the Prince was forced to his knees and his neck pressed over the block. Hiccup struggled but he froze as he felt the cold metal rest across the back of his neck as the axeman took his position and prepared for the lethal blow. He took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes.

"Be brave, son," Gobber told him, his voice calm. "Remember all I told you…"

"I'm sorry, Dad," he murmured. "I couldn't stop him…"

He felt the pressure lift from his neck as the axe was raised for the lethal blow and he mouthed a final prayer to Odin…

…as a snarl sounded and a black blur soared over the Prince, hitting the executioner at neck height. The man fell backwards with a scream as yellow fangs bit hard into his throat. Hiccup's guards froze and the Prince shoved himself backwards, pulling free from their grasps. Simultaneously, Gobber smashed his head back into the guard behind him, sending him tumbling off the platform. He dragged his hand free of his ropes simply by popping out the hook that served as his left hand. He grabbed the appendage and used it to stab the next guard before jamming it back into its holder. Toothless was savaging another guard and Hiccup punched out the last, grabbing his sword and leaping from the platform, followed closely by Gobber and Toothless.

"Laddie-I take everything back!" Gobber panted as the sprinted for the stables, parrying a crossbow bolt with his hook hand. "Forget I ever doubted why a Prince would want a wolf as a pet!"

"Apology accepted!" Hiccup grinned as they ducked into the stables, attacking the guards stationed to prevent any loyal member of the household stealing a horse and escaping. "I've got Fury prepared already…"

"…and Grumpy is saddled as well, laddie!" his Mentor shot back, speeding to the stable doors. He flung them open and dashed back as Hiccup swung into the saddle, grabbing Grumpy's reins. Gobber leapt aboard as they trotted past and they accelerated towards the main gates, Toothless loping along at their feet.

"STOP THEM!" Dagur shouted as they came in sight of the gates. Men were already running to the winches to wind the portcullis down and close the gates. Hiccup kicked Fury to a gallop with Gobber at his side.

"C'mon, old man," he growled. "I don't think my Dad would want you giving up until he returns. I doubt he would trust me to escape without someone to keep me in order!" Gobber turned to him to shoot back a reply and then he jerked, his amiable face creasing into a grimace of pain. He sagged limply forward, a crossbow bolt sticking out of his back. Hiccup craned his neck back to see Dagur lowering his weapon and grinning from a balcony. Furious, the young Prince kicked his horse again, grabbing Grumpy's reins and thundering to the rapidly-closing gates. They whisked out under the falling portcullis just before it slammed down with Toothless racing ahead. Hiccup kept low over his saddle as they cleared the castle and accelerated up the hill towards the wood.

He stole one last look at Berkingham Castle, promising he would return and reclaim his birthright. Then they hit the line of the trees and vanished into the forest.

Dagur walked along the battlements to the top of the gatehouse as the gates were opened to allow pursuit to start after the fugitives. Spitelout was incandescent with rage at his side, throwing his goblet at the nearest guard. The Deranged Lord was grinning insanely. "So what are your orders, your Majesty?" he asked. Spitelout stared after him and scowled.

"Put a high enough price on his head that the peasants will be falling over each other to turn him in!" he commanded. "Hiccup Horrendous Haddock is an outlaw and a traitor. I want him dead!"


	2. A Prince of Thieves

Six months later…

The coach bounced down the road and turned to the south for the most dangerous leg of the journey. Her lady in waiting, Solveig, was already almost in hysterics but Lady Astrid Hofferson, the only child of the noble Lord of Scauldron Bay, was made of sterner stuff. Her father, not discouraged that his only child was a daughter, had given her the same martial training as any son of the nobility and she was equally skilled with the sword, bow and battle-axe as any of the young men she had been offered in marriage. Of course, none of that mattered now because the new ruler, Prince Spitelout, had demanded that she be delivered to the grim Berkingham Castle to be married to his cosseted and spoilt son, Snotlout.

She sighed. As a rule, she was a hardworking and independent young noblewoman who despised the entitled young men who expected her to become their brood mare and possession: she sought a husband who would treat her as an equal and a person in her own right. There had been only one young noble who had shown the qualities she had sought-and he had been declared a traitor and outlaw six months earlier. She folded her hands in the flared sleeves of her azure gown and stared at the solid wooden floor of the carriage.

It had been a long six months where the nobility had learned to mind their tongues or lose their heads. Three Lords who had declared for the usurped King and dishonoured Prince had been executed out of hand by Dagur the Deranged, the new ruler's favourite attack dog and his right hand-Alvin, Sheriff of Berkingham. Taxes had escalated out of control and the occasional dragon raid from the north had drained the coffers of most Lords and all the peasants until it was becoming a struggle to put food on the table. People were suffering but all Spitelout and Alvin demanded were more taxes, more food, more slaves for his castle. Those who couldn't pay were lodged in the dungeons or were sent to the slave-markets of Meathead lands to pay off their supposed debts. Nobles like Lord Hofferson ensured grain and dried meats were supplied to those who had lost their homes to the tax collectors to prevent them starving but even so, deaths were becoming far more common.

And amid this, there was now a bandit, an outlaw attacking anyone of means who used the only road joining the northern and southern portions of the kingdom, passing through the notorious Raven Point Forest. He never attacked peasants or serfs, sparing them or-allegedly-sending them on their way with heavier purses and bags full of poached meat but for soldiers, tax collectors and nobility, it was a different story. Calling himself Night Fury, he expertly ambushed those of means and relieved them of their portable wealth as a 'tax' for passing through his realm. No one was ever killed-unless they resisted seriously, and only then those who worked for Spitelout or his minions. And he was rumoured to be charming to the ladies unfortunate enough to fall into his grasp.

Of course, Sheriff Alvin had placed such an enormous bounty on his head, four hundred kronor, that it should have the starving and penniless people of Berk falling over each other to betray him but intelligence was almost totally lacking. Alvin had spread the word that Night Fury was a blood-thirsty cutthroat who mercilessly slew his victims and ravished and despoiled the woman. A few-like Solveig-bought the propaganda-but more listened to the whispers of their servants and realised he was-in fact-awfully well-mannered for an outlaw.

"We're going in, Lady Hofferson," Jorgen, the coachman called to them. "I'll be whipping the horses on now. Hang on!"

"Freya protect us!" Solveig wailed and gripped the seat with white knuckles. Astrid rolled her eyes and grabbed her trusty battle-axe, her weapon of choice. If any outlaws threatened her virtue, they would be leaving lighter several body parts. Then the horses neighed and the clack of the wheels accelerated as the trees began to whizz faster past the windows.

The forest was mainly open spruce with thick bracken and brambles beside the road: ideal cover for bandits. Astrid lowered her head and her sea blue eyes scanned the wood for signs of movement. Her senses and instinct told her that they were being watched. Solveig was a gibbering mess as they swayed and had to slow as they approached a tight corner and Astrid knew this would be it. Then she heard it: the thud of boots landing on the wooden roof of the coach.

"Stop and I won't put an arrow in your neck!" a clear, slightly nasal voice ordered from above. There was the sudden slowing of the coach and cries of 'whoa' from Jorgen, who had his orders not to endanger his own life. As soon as the coach stopped, men erupted from the undergrowth and Astrid gripped her axe as the door of the coach was wrenched open by a husky blond man whose eyes popped wide as he saw the passengers. Especially as Astrid brandished her axe and narrowed her eyes.

"Get your filthy hands off of my possessions!" she snarled and slammed the door shut.

"Er…Fury?" the blond man called uncertainly, stepping back. The outlaw chief leapt from the roof, landing agilely and nodding to his men, who had pulled Jorgen down from his seat and had him on his knees, in full sight of the passengers. The lithe figure walked calmly up to the door and stood casually by the coach. He wore a mask of leather, concealing the whole of his face except his stunning emerald green eyes, his messy auburn hair almost reaching his collar. His brown leather armour had seen better days, the right shoulder marked with a crudely daubed black dragon motif and his tunic and leggings were of grubby olive green. He sketched a slight bow then, when nothing happened, rapped his knuckles on the side of the coach.

"Er…Milady, if you remain in your coach, I will have no choice but to steal all your possessions and run away," he said mockingly. "I admire your valour but your plan seems astonishingly poorly thought-out!"

Astrid gave a snort of annoyance, then kicked the door open and exploded into the clearing, her axe swinging ferociously. The outlaws backed away as she spun, aiming straight at the outlaw chief. He leapt back, his sword swiftly in his hand and parrying the next swing with a loud clang. "Get. Off. My. Possessions!" she snarled. The outlaw backed away, his eyes hardening as he assessed her.

"Clearly, that would make all our efforts pointless, Milady," he suggested, parrying cautiously. "And while my social calendar is looking rather sparse, I still don't have that much time to waste on a fool's errand! I mean, taking the gang out for a spin while not stealing anything? Duh! Even Snotlout would realise that was stupid…or would he?"

"I don't deal with bandits and outlaws!" she snapped, swinging fiercely at him. He stood his ground for a moment and swapped blows with her.

"And yet you are on your way to the Castle!" he noted sarcastically. "You keep to that, you won't have many people there you can talk to!"

"Argh! I will chop you into little pieces!" she shouted, swinging even more wildly-though very firmly.

"Milady, I endeavour not to allow bloodshed if at all possible," he told her, retreating measuredly from her ferocious attack. "But in your case, that may prove rather difficult though extremely regrettable. I only seek material possessions, not blood or virtue. A few coins and jewellery can be replaced: lives cannot. I urge you to reconsider your actions."

"I am not going to be your next victim, you foul, murderous, treacherous, lying…"

He moved like lightning, his sword slamming into her axe twice and them slapping on her hand, smacking her knuckles hard enough to disarm her. She cried out and as she turned, he grabbed her and pulled her back against him, her back to his chest and sword across her throat.

"I may be many things, Milady," he said, his voice cold, "but treacherous and murderous are not two of them." He paused and his voice became a little embarrassed. "Lying and thieving…maybe a little more…" He nodded and his men hastened to the back of the coach and grabbed her valise and her strongbox. Fury nodded and his men wrenched the strongbox open, revealing a pile of silver coins, some gold and a pouch of jewels. The husky blond man-Fishlegs-poured them into his broad hand and there was a chorus of 'ooohs' at the workmanship and gleaming gemstones. Fury leaned forward and inspected the loot.

"Those are family heirlooms," Astrid spat. Fury lifted the sword from her throat, though he kept her held close to his body.

"What, all of them?" he asked in a disbelieving voice. Astrid paused.

"Um…all except the one with the big ruby in," she admitted. "That was a gift from Lord Snotlout. Erm…yuk." He paused and then nodded, eyeing the gaudy bauble.

"As Milady says…yuk!" he said then paused, seemingly thinking. "Fish-take the coins and the ruby locket. Restore the remainder of the jewels to the Lady Hofferson." He released her and she stared at him, her mouth hanging open in shock. "Though their beauty does not compare to yours, Milady, I would not separate such a beautiful woman from her jewels." He paused. "But I would request your spare clothes? There are men and women without warm clothing or even a roof over their heads." She looked at him as the husky man handed the pouch back to her. She frowned and closed her mouth.

"But…but…they say…"

"Many things which aren't true," he sighed theatrically and she got the impression from his voice that he was smiling under the mask. "You have paid my taxes: go on your way in peace!" And he offered her his hand to help her back into the coach. She swatted it aside and stepped proudly in but his warm hand curled around hers and pulled it against his mask where his mouth would be. "Safe journey, Milady Hofferson," he said and closed the door. Jorgen needed no encouragement to scramble back into his seat and whip the horses to gallop away as fast as they could run. The outlaws watched for a moment-until Hiccup pulled up his mask and wiped his brow.

"Er, dude-why did we let her get away with all that loot?" Tuffnut asked. The male twin was lanky but muscular and his long blonde dreadlocks were unusual. His twin sister, Ruffnut, stood at his side, her long blonde braids the match of his and appearance almost identical. She scowled.

"She's privileged and rich," she snapped. "She should have paid everything she could!" Hiccup stared after the coach, then shook his head. Ruffnut had her reasons to hate the nobility but Lady Hofferson would never be a target in his eyes.

"We have enough," he said quietly. "I wouldn't harm Astrid and I recognise some of those pieces from her mother. It would be a shame to steal every last thing she has of her."

"Dude-you know her?" Tuffnut asked and Hiccup blushed then turned away.

"A lifetime ago," he murmured. "Back to camp, gang! We need to count the coins and get them and any clothing out to the villagers as soon as possible. Al has thought up another tax he can harry them with and we need to be ready."

"Yeah-what's that about?" Ruffnut muttered. "I mean…Roof tax? How is that fair?"

"Well, they had Well tax previously-a coin for every time you used the village well…" Fishlegs offered.

"And Lice tax!" Tuffnut added. "Wow-that was fun watching them make their assessments. And people claiming they had fleas instead of lice…" Hiccup rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He was starting to get a headache and knew the twins could come up with stupid-but in fact real-taxes Alvin had tried to enforce over the last six months for ages if he did nothing.

"CAMP. NOW!" he ordered and they picked up the valise and the strongbox then vanished into the undergrowth once more.

oOo

The remainder of the journey to Berkingham was uneventful but it was conducted at a breakneck speed. Solveig was definitely hysterical by the time the coach clattered through the gatehouse and into the castle while Astrid was trying to make sense of the encounter. Night Fury had been courteous, kind and respectful and she had the impression they could have disarmed and hurt her very easily. Then she blinked: he had known her name. She frowned and tried to force her memory back to where she had heard that voice before…and then the coach jolted to a halt and a footman dragged the door open. Steps were placed under their door and she elegantly stepped down onto the hastily-laid carpet that led to the steps.

At the top, the stocky shape of Snotlout waited for her in his deep blue velvet tunic and black hose. At just twenty, Spitelout's son was a young version of the usurper, with jet hair, sparkling blue eyes and unfailing self-confidence. He had been pampered his entire life and expected everything as a matter of right-and that included the hand of the daughter of House Hofferson. He scampered down the steps and almost tripped, so she had to catch him. His hand closed tightly on hers, his meaty grip slightly sweaty and gross and she tried to wind her hand free.

"Welcome, my Princess," he said unctuously. "Your radiance lights up the day."

"It's night, Lord Snotlout," she pointed out, pulling her hand free and unconsciously wiping it on her skirts.

"And was your journey uneventful?" he asked, inviting her to lead up the stairs. She tossed her sun-blonde hair, the braid neatly resting over her left shoulder and tufts of hair flopped over her left eye. She snorted.

"We were attacked by the outlaw Night Fury and our coin and clothes were stolen," she reported coldly. Snotlout stopped and his face darkened with rage. "I am afraid my lady in waiting has suffered extreme anxiety as a result. If you could have the palace women take her to my rooms to recover…?" Snotlout scowled, then remembered himself and his role as host.

"I'll have Lady Heather take her up this minute," he said dismissively. "Princess, are you harmed?" She shook her head and paused to look back a him. She loathed being called 'Princess': the gentle 'Milady' that Night Fury had casually used was infinitely preferable to her ears.

"I protected my virtue," she reported sternly. "But I regret that your betrothal gift was taken by the bandit."

"WHAT?" His face locked in rage. "That cost me half a year's allowance! Damn him!" Astrid bowed her head, secretly amused: the locket had been amazingly ugly and ostentatious-hardly to her liking any way and a part of her was pleased that the hated object may benefit someone less fortunate. She feigned a sigh.

"I regret its loss," she lied politely and then yawned. "It has been a tiring and very trying journey, my Lord. I shall retire to rest and recover." Then she turned away and he bowed, seething. But as soon as she was gone, he stormed to the Great Hall, slamming the door open and stomping up the dais, where his father and his cronies were debating. Lacking any diplomacy or sense of propriety, he had no qualms about interrupting them.

"That Odin-cursed bandit!" he swore. "He's robbed Astrid Hofferson and stolen my betrothal gift to her!" Spitelout looked up and Alvin grinned. The Sheriff was a huge man, tall and broad with a massive jet beard, cruel dark eyes and a scarred, mocking face.

"Well, yer wouldn't let me do what I 'ad proposed so what did yer expect?" he asked casually. "I presume yer little boy's girlfriend 'as been robbed by yer runaway prince?" Spitelout leapt to his feet, his face scarlet with rage.

"He is no Prince!" he shouted.

"Tell it to 'is Daddy!" Alvin suggested to the Prince. Spitelout sat back, seething as Dagur gave a maniacal laugh.

"Oh, I doubt Daddy will come home this side of Ragnarok!" he scorned. "Our tribes as well as the Dragon Hunters are already on the lookout-and we have had news today from Bludvist's envoy that the Prince of Blood will be joining the effort to exterminate Stoick the Vast-if the pirates haven't been kind enough to achieve that for us!"

"Face it, Spitelout-yer brother ain't never comin' 'ome!" Alvin grinned yellowly and raised his pitcher of mead to the Usurper. "To King Spitelout!"

"What about my locket?" Snotlout growled. His father grinned indulgently.

"Lord Dagur-would you mind taking my son hunting?" he asked mildly. "He wants to go looking for the wolf's head, Night Fury."

"Hmm, we haven't gone looking for my brother for a couple of weeks, so it may be fun!" Dagger giggled and grinned. "Okay, Snotling-we leave at Dawn!" Snotlout moaned loudly.

"Um-could we make it nine? I hate getting up early!" he whined. Dagur and Alvin rolled their eyes. This was supposed to rule Berk in the future?

"Fine, we leave at nine!" the Deranged one sighed.

oOo

The scrawny and half-grown mid-teen edged back from the servants' entrance to the Hall and ducked his head, taking the empty pitcher to the kitchens and advising the duty server that the Lords needed more mead and pronto. No one paid much heed to a ragged boy with black hair and grey eyes. His cheeky face was usually grinning but tonight he looked thoughtful as he dived to the old culvert and prepared to lower himself into the cold water. A strong hand grabbed him.

"Ow! That's mean, sis!"

"Gustav-I swear, one of these days, you will get yourself caught and have to answer to the axeman!" the black-haired girl told him, brushing water off her grey satin gown. The boy sighed, shivering in the gloom.

"You'd save me, wouldn't you, sis?" he whined. She sighed.

"You're my only family, Gustav but you take stupid risks," she told him.

"We all do, sis," he reminded her. "I got news for the prince: they're coming after him again and he'll need to know!" She released him and watched him duck into the icy stream and dive through the hole in the grille to breach the walls unseen.

"And he's another one who takes too many risks," she sighed. Then Lady Heather rose, dusted herself down and went back to check on Astrid's hysterical lady in waiting…


	3. Hunting Party

The Outlaws' camp was busy even at dawn, with sentinels stationed at all approaches and in a line of sight chain all the way to the main north-south road. The little line of tents and ramshackle shelters were pitched against the cliff-like walls of the cove that nestled in the deep forest beyond Raven Point, sheltered from the worst of the wind and the rain. A large fire burned with spits over it and cauldrons of weak soup and stew warming for the night guards and those breaking their fasts. A few loaves were also toasting on the flat stones and the noise level was starting to gently rise as the camp was beginning to wake.

To one side, a solitary shape on a large boulder was already awake, his lanky shape folded with his knees pulled up to his chest and arms clasped tightly around them. His chin rested on his knees and his emerald eyes stared vacantly across the little camp and to the small lake that covered part of the floor of the cove. Hiccup always woke early since he had become an outlaw, always woke burdened with doubts about his ability to retrieve his birthright and save his father when he returned. And the guilt that the people of Berk were suffering and he couldn't prevent it all.

A small whine brought him back to reality as Toothless yawned and stretched, then nuzzled against his hip. Hiccup rubbed the black wolf warmly and stared into the luminous acid-green eyes. The little cub had been found by the teenage prince on a hunt where its dead mother had been shot for killing sheep. Two grey cubs had already lain dead but the wounded black pup had been snatched by Hiccup and no amount of persuasion, shouting or beating could persuade the young royal to give up his pet. He had raised the wolf as his friend, his protector, his closest companion-and Toothless had never failed him.

"Morning, bud," he sighed softly. "Time for your run?" The wolf whined and licked him. Hiccup sighed and rose stiffly, then walked to the nearest tent, checking on his mentor. He hunkered down to see the bulky shape of Gobber curled, snoring, under a blanket. Hiccup had almost lost Gobber after their escape-badly wounded and bleeding-and only Elder Gothi's isolated house had provided them refuge and Gobber the healing he needed. But it had taken its toll on the older man and his stamina was badly eroded. No longer the brash sword instructor, he was still the father figure that Hiccup so desperately needed, the voice that bolstered his shaky confidence to continue to resist even when it looked increasingly hopeless.

Gobber looked up suddenly-even though Hiccup knew he had made no sound-and grinned at the bowed shape crouching at his tent. "Ye need some sleep as well, laddie," he reminded Hiccup. The young outlaw sighed.

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen any time soon," he muttered. "You slept well, Gobber?" The old man nodded.

"Young Gustav got in late-yer were spark out," he reported. "Snotlout and Dagur are coming hunting for yer this morning." Hiccup's eyes widened and he leapt to his feet.

"What? We should…" he began but Gobber closed his eyes again.

"Don't get yer skivvies in a twist, lad," he mumbled happily. "They're not even leaving until nine because the princeling doesn't like early starts!" Hiccup stared at him, slack-jawed, then began to laugh.

"Thank the gods for Snotlout's laziness!" he chuckled. Gobber grinned.

"Wake me when yer get back from yer run and we can make preparations to hide while they're in the forest," he said. Hiccup nodded and headed for the narrow exit to the cove, scrambling up with Toothless growling and yipping at his heels. The others could hear him laughing and talking to his friend as he vanished among the rocks. The twins and Fishlegs were poking the fire and munching on toasted bread.

"At least he's happy," Ruffnut scowled, munching her toast loudly.

"I mean, when this is all over-or even during, he at least has his palaces and hunting lodges and titles to fall back on," Tuffnut commented. "Not really starving, dude."

"Yeah-brought up in silk sheets and with food to spare," Ruffnut added bitterly.

"And servants to do everything for him!" Tuffnut continued, a happy smile on his face as he imagined such a life. "Actually cool…"

"Yeah, but he mopes like he has a right but he's not had it a tenth as hard as we have!" Ruffnut reminded him shortly. Her eyes narrowed at the thought. Her brother cast her a worried look: his sister had changed since…that day and he missed his old sister, though there were a few flashes occasionally.

"Yeah-moper!" he agreed, baiting her to join him in true nut style. To his relief, she took the bait.

"Super-moper!"

"With bells on!"

"With ribbons and bells on!"

"Hah! With bells and whistles and ribbons and…what was it again?" Tuffnut suddenly looked confused.

"Actually, I don't think he does," Fishlegs put in timidly. They looked at him in surprise. The husky blond outlaw was a former audit clerk who had fled during the coup and ended up in the woods. He was well educated and had a working knowledge of the tax system and the law. "Spitelout declared him an outlaw and traitor. He removed all his possessions and privileges and honours. And even if Spitelout is overthrown, only the King can restore his honours. And with Stoick missing, even if Spitelout falls, Snotlout is the rightful heir anyway! And he is hardly likely to give back all the manors and titles he stole off Hiccup."

The twins looked at him thoughtfully. Of all of them, Hiccup was the only one with the price on his head and he had never spoken of the day he left the castle, merely shrugging and diverting the subject to the rest of the gang. No one had ever bothered to ask Gobber because they knew he would bore them to death with a crazy story and not answer the question anyway. Hiccup was always kind and polite but would not tolerate anyone not pulling his weight. And he did more than his fair share. Whatever his life had been, he was one of them now. Ruffnut scowled but her twin slapped her shoulder.

"Butt elf-give it a rest!" he advised her. "He may have been brought up in luxury but he's here now with us-as cold and hungry as we all are. And unlike some, he never complains." She sighed.

"Yeah," she murmured. "Okay, bro-I'll cut him some slack!"

oOo

In the forest, Hiccup was jogging along with Toothless racing ahead. It had been much easier to exercise the wolf when he could go for a morning ride but Fury was stabled further into the forest with a loyal smallholder and the terrain around the cove wasn't exactly ideal for a spirited war charger. So he ran and the wolf raced and played while his master went through his exercises. No matter that he was wanted and living rough, he had promised his father he would work hard to be the best warrior and best leader Berk could have-and that meant practice.

He had barely begun his sword exercises when a high pitched scream sounded and his head snapped round. Toothless froze, his ears pricked and he gave a low growl. Hiccup glanced at him.

"Exactly what I thought, bud," he murmured and sheathed his sword, already accelerating towards the sound of the scream. It sounded again and the outlaw sprinted up the rise-to see a young girl being shoved the the ground by three rough-looking men in patched brown tunics and leggings. He frowned. The girl had a wicker basket and had clearly been foraging for food-and these men were seeking to steal her food-at the very least. He didn't like the looks on their faces: he wasn't the only outlaw and there were men far worse and crueller than him who possibly deserved their status. One kicked at the girl and he sprinted down the slope to halt a few feet short of them at her cry of pain.

"Hey, guys-how're things?" he said amiably, raising his hands to try to appease them. They looked up and scowled at him, fists tightening and postures changing.

"Push off, kid!" the first growled, a balding, scarred thickset man.

"Kid? Wow, my youthful good looks strike again!" Hiccup grinned. He took a step closer to the girl and stretched out his hand. "Come to me, sweetheart." She glanced up and scrambled towards him, shaking. He pushed her behind him and watched the men line up against him. "Oh, c'mon!" he sighed. "What's the point in this?"

"Well, we get to kick your scrawny ass and then we get the girl!" the first man said with a nasty smile. "Win-win!" Hiccup took a pace back, motioning the girl back further.

"You may be disappointed with both of those," he said quietly, whistling. The men rushed him and he blocked the first blow, kicking out to shove the second man sideways as he lunged forward. The man collapsed with an 'oof!' as Hiccup dodged a second punch-then landed one of his own, knocking the first man hard onto his ass. But the third man-a tall, heavyset man with a really unpleasant expression-tackled him at chest height and bore the slighter shape of the outlaw to the ground. He rolled but a punch slammed into his face and he groaned as the man leapt onto him again.

"Get off him!" The girl had jumped onto his shoulders and was scratching and biting at the attacker. The second man scrambled up and hauled her off, screaming and cursing. She bit his hand and he gave a loud and very profane curse before dropping her. She dodged back. Hiccup braced himself to try to dislodge the man on top of him-and then a blur of black fur and teeth slammed the man and knocked him away. Hiccup bounced up and kicked the man across the face, then faced the remaining man, breathing hard. Toothless arched his back and gave a very low, very menacing growl.

"I suggest cutting your losses now-before my friend decides you look like breakfast," Hiccup said sternly, drawing his sword easily. The men glanced up at him, then helped one another up and ran for it. Hiccup watched them until they vanished into the trees and then he relaxed, sheathing his sword once more. He patted Toothless, who sat and gave a little whimper.

"Yeah, yeah, I was doing fine," Hiccup protested. "What kept you?" Toothless gave a small yip and opened his mouth in what looked very much like a grin. The outlaw shook his head with a smile and turned to the girl. "Thank you," he said calmly as she looked at him with very round eyes. Her blue gaze kept wandering to Toothless. "He won't harm you," he assured her.

"But-but he's a wolf!" she told him.

"Wow? Is he? Gosh, wondered what those ears and teeth and tail meant!" he quipped, his gentle sarcasm breaking her shock. She gave little giggle.

"My da said all wolves were vermin and should be killed on sight!" she told him, still wary. He gave a shrug.

"A lot of wolves are wild-but this one is my friend," he admitted. "I wouldn't recommend a wholesale policy of wolf-petting but this one…will be your friend if I tell him to. Would you like that?" She nodded so he gently stepped forward and took her hand, then lifted it. He nodded and Toothless walked cautiously forward and sniffed…then pressed his muzzle against her hand. She gave a little shriek and then she gave a slow smile. Hiccup grinned at her. "He'll remember you now," he assured her. "His name is Toothless." She frowned.

"But he has a lot of teeth," she pointed out. He nodded.

"My…friend…pointed out when I first got him that while I had him, I would never be Toothless, so it kinda stuck," he admitted. "I'm Hiccup." She didn't even register his name.

"Ingrid," she said then round, looking for her basket. "I should get home-my mam and da will be expecting me with breakfast…" He peered at her gatherings: a lot of herbs and a generous helping of wild mushrooms. He darted forward and picked one out.

"This one will kill you," he told her quietly, showing her the poisonous redcap before tossing it away, "but the rest are fine…" She flashed him a grin and lifted the basket once more.

"Will you walk me home?" she asked, her eyes pleading. He sagged.

"I'm a sucker for a big begging pair of eyes-right, bud?" he sighed, looking at the wolf, which was giving its grin again. He offered the girl his hand. "Okay, Ingrid…lead on…"

He had walked her home-to a little forester's cottage deep in the forest, though he had hung back behind a large spruce with Toothless as she walked the last few yards to the door because he guessed Toothless at least would be less than welcome. He watched her wave to him and the door slam- and that was when he heard the horns. His head snapped up and he peered at the blue sky: the sun was much higher and he guessed he had wasted far more time than he had guessed. It was looking distinctly nine-ish and he shook his head as he turned and began to run back towards the cove.

"Oh Thor, oh Odin…Gobber will kill me," he groaned. "I can just hear him. Laddie, ye need tae learn to focus on the job at hand, not get distracted hunting trolls and suchlike! Ye'll never make a proper warrior if ye keep wasting time on all…this…" And then he heard the thunder of hooves and motioned Toothless into the brambles, swinging up into the nearest tree, deftly clambering among the branches and hunkering down to watch the road as a party of three approached. He curled up further as they wheeled to a halt in the small clearing and gave their horses a breather.

It was Snotlout on his chestnut charger, with Dagur on his jet steed and another man the concealed Hiccup didn't recognise on a grey. The stranger was tall, muscular and dressed in strange clothing fashioned of skins and warm furs. His jet hair was pulled back into a short braid and his dark eyes were calculating and intelligent. Tattoos marked his chin and it clicked: he was from the North, from Drago the Dark's realm. Hiccup stiffened and listened closely.

"Do you have a clue where he may be?" Snotlout whined, his hand automatically snaking to his saddle bag and pulling out a salmon roll. He took a huge bite and chewed happily. Dagur swung his head around.

"The trick is not finding them," Dagur growled. "It's more avoiding whatever they prepare for us as a surprise!" The northman looked at him in disgust.

"A mere outlaw-and you seem unable to crush him?" he sneered.

"Captain Eret, if you wish to lead this chase, then be my guest!" Dagur invited him with a smug smile.

"Hey-I'm in charge!" Snotlout protested.

"And a Prince doesn't lead with the sniffer dogs," Dagur reminded him in exasperation. "He can lead the chase once the scent is located. You can show your valour without having to do the work…" Snotlout's expression settled: he had no intention of working for his kill.

"Why are there no dogs?" Eret asked shortly.

"Hiccup has a wolf," Dagur explained. "We tried dogs before…most were slain and the rest have refused to enter the forest again." Hiccup grinned: Toothless had been really grumpy that day.

"Any wolf can be killed," Eret sneered. Hiccup gave a small smile and gave a small whistle. Toothless poked his head out of the brambles and Hiccup gestured to the wolf to lope towards a stand of bracken. Then he grabbed his bow, nocked an arrow and fired past Eret and Dagur's noses. Both men drew their swords as Hiccup hopped to a lower branch into clear view of the men.

"Top of the morning to you!" he called amiably. "Were you aware there is a tax for annoyingly rich and treacherous men passing through these woods?"

"Brother!" Dagur growled, fumbling for his crossbow. Hiccup rapidly fired again, the arrow burying deep into the weapon, rendering it useless.

"TRAITOR!" Snotlout sneered, firing a crossbow badly but accidentally hitting the trunk a few feet from Hiccup.

"Hi, Snot-how are my lands and honours doing today?" Hiccup asked sarcastically, discounting him. Simultaneously, Eret threw a long knife and Hiccup-recognising an unknown but almost certainly more skilled warrior-leapt from the branch and landed in a patch of brambles as the knife whisked through the patch of air he had just vacated. Lightly scratched, Hiccup stumbled away, his weak left ankle turning again. He flashed a grin at the hunting party. "Have a successful hunt!" he called and dived deeper into the trees. Toothless galloped towards him and the hunters glared as he ran for it.

"The wolf!" Eret snarled. "I'm having its pelt for my new cloak!"

"My second best crossbow!" Dagur added. "Okay, brother-if that's how you want to play it…let's have a little fun!" And he wheeled his horse around and they cantered into the undergrowth, heading after the sprinting shape of Hiccup. Eret was kicking his horse forward, eager to win the chase. Not to be outdone, Snotlout was riding very recklessly after them, dodging between the trees, jumping brambles and gullies and closing rapidly on the lanky, fleeing shape of Hiccup.

Okay-first part of the plan is working great. They're chasing us. Now all I need to do is come up with the second part of the plan…

Hiccup looked up and recognised the terrain. He had spent countless hours in Raven Point Forest as a boy, hiding from his cousin and the others who had tormented and taunted the undergrown young Prince-but it had given him amazing knowledge of the place that only the local foresters could match. He veered left and hurdled a low gulley, his ankle turning again and dumping him on the damp, mossy ground by a stream. Toothless instantly stopped but he waved the wolf on.

"I'm fine, bud!" he murmured, scrambling to his feet and staggering on. He could hear the pursuers closing and he raced forward, scampering up a tree and walking steadily along the thick lower branch, He pointed and Toothless streaked ahead, growling as the horses came into view. Hiccup hopped onto an adjacent branch and backed away from the three hunters. He smiled at them.

"Having fun yet…brother?" he taunted Dagur and the Deranged Lord growled, advancing towards the lanky shape. Hiccup sketched a bow.

"Oh, you are going to pay for that!" Dagur growled but Eret suddenly looked serious.

"Wait-this doesn't feel right…" he said clearly. But Hiccup whistled and Toothless reared up behind the horses, growling and snarling and the horses all reared wildly. The hunters stood no chance and were all thrown-straight down the pit trap that Hiccup remembered had been dug here some years earlier. He hunkered down and stared at the three men in the muddy pit.

"Good instincts," he complimented the man, his eyes narrowing. "You've come from Drago the Dark, Prince of Blood and enemy of Berk. So your presence isn't exactly welcome. I'm sure your shaman threw the runes before the trip, just in case. But I betcha he didn't see this coming!" Eret pulled his sword and waved it furiously at the young outlaw.

"You will regret this for the rest of your life!" he swore. "I will kill you for this!"

"Oh, join the line!" Hiccup sighed. "There are so many people after my head I'll have to set up an appointments system." Then his expression hardened. "That trap is twelve feet deep with sheer sides and it's very muddy. You are unlikely to get out on your own. Maybe someone will find you…and maybe they will be willing to help you…but this place is a long way from any habitations." Snotlout stared up at him.

"What do you want?" he asked very quietly. Hiccup cracked a grin.

"I may be minded to throw you a rope," he offered. "For a price…" Snotlout and Dagur scowled.

"What price?" Snotlout asked. Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck in an embarrassed gesture.

"I'm rather down on my luck, so I can't afford a particularly strong rope," he admitted. "So you will need to lighten yourselves as much as possible. Those heavy purses for a start." Snotlout rolled his eyes. Eret huffed and folded his arms.

"I am NOT handing my money over to this scrawny bandit!" he snarled. Hiccup gave a shrug.

"All or none," he said easily. "I'll be seeing you. Maybe you're feeling lucky…" Snotlout stared up at him and then at Dagur. The Berserk Lord knew that Hiccup never left anything really to chance-and the trap would be well-concealed and remote. It may be a week before anyone passed close enough to hear their cries…

"Do as you are told!" the new Heir to Berk commanded him. Eret stared at him and saw the anger in the stocky young man'e eyes. Irritably, he tossed his purse up with the others. Hiccup caught them easily.

"Now your cloaks," he commanded. "And weapons."

"You would leave us defenceless, brother?" Dagger taunted him.

"Snot-tell these men what I do in my spare time," Hiccup said calmly, making a bundle of the cloaks.

"He works the forge."

"Yes-so I can refashion these into tools and farm implements for those you have stolen from," Hiccup told them sternly. "Boots!" Snotlout looked up at him and whined in protest.

"C'mon-how an I supposed to ride without boots?" he whinged. Hiccup grinned.

"Not a problem-because the horses will come with me as well," he said cheerfully. "You're looking a little well-fed, cuz. You could do with a walk. Boots or no rope!"

"I will watch you scream!" Eret promised Hiccup and the young outlaw smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, looking forward to it-BOOTS!" he insisted. Finally, he bundled all the goods up and unwound a slender rope from around his waist. He walked to the very end of the branch and leapt down, then gathered up the horses. Finally, he tied the rope to the branch and tossed it over the pit so the end dangled a good three feet above their heads, knowing they could reach it with relative ease. He sketched a bow. "Have fun with your hunt!" he said, threw himself into the saddle of Snotlout's horse and rode away. Snotlout stared at his companions.

"Off you go," he said. "Get me out of here!"


	4. An Unexpected Encounter

Hiccup had been right: Gobber had given him a disappointed look when he finally returned with his loot which, while not as discouraging as any his father poured upon him, still made him feel depressed. Even the news that Snotlout's hunt had been thwarted didn't seem to cheer anyone up.

"We feared ye were lost, laddie!" Gobber had told him. Hiccup flashed his crooked grin.

"Hey, Gobber-I had Toothless with me-what could possibly go wrong?" he asked.

"Wolf hunters?" Gobber suggested.

"Ambush?" Fishlegs put in.

"A hail of arrows?" was Ruffnut's contribution.

"A really large hunting party? Tuffnut wasn't to be outdone either.

"Or all of the above," Gobber finished. "Look, laddie-ye aren't just a prince, taking a leisurely morning ride-ye'er the leader of this gang and a lot of people are relying on ye!"

"I'm not a prince at all, any more," Hiccup said stiffly, his clear green gaze darkening momentarily. "I'm a wanted outlaw and traitor. I know exactly what I risk-but there are people out there being hurt and I wasn't going to stand by and watch a little girl be abused by three men-or allow Snotlout and his friends stumble across the camp if I could help it!" He ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

"I'm only concerned about ye," Gobber told him gently.

"I worry more about you, old man!" Hiccup told him affectionately. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you!" And then he frowned. "But we have a problem. With Snot and Dagur was a man who is clearly from Drago's lands. He has to be an envoy because I can't see Snot going hunting with anyone of lower status."

"Ye mebbe right, lad," Gobber said frowning.

"So we need to know what is going on," Hiccup said determinedly. Gobber stared at him and started laughing.

"Oh no, laddie-out of the question!" he said flatly.

"No one knows the castle bettie than I do!" Hiccup argued. "I can read as well as listen and I know all the shortcuts. I can do this!"

"What's going on?" Tuff nut asked, confused.

"I believe Hiccup is planning to infiltrate the castle in disguise," Fishlegs told him in a low voice. "It's hopelessly reckless and stupid!"

"Hey-I can do reckless and stupid. Practically my middle name!" Hiccup cut in, smiling calmly.

"I thought those were our middle names!" Tuffnut protested and Ruffnut unexpectedly butted heads with him, grinning.

"Yeah…great days," she sighed. Hiccup rose.

"I'm going in," he said determinedly. "Distribute the clothes and money, melt down the weapons and there are three more horses with our friend that can either be sold, given away or kept for when we need to travel fast. And look after Toothless, please. I guess taking a black wolf into Berkingham Castle would be a bit obvious!" Gobber stared up at him and sighed.

"I can't dissuade you?" he asked hopefully.

"Not a chance," Hiccup told him. "Time to visit my old home…"

oOo

It hadn't been as difficult as he had anticipated getting back into Berkingham Castle. All he had needed was a set of very threadbare and ragged tunic and hose, a hood and cap (to conceal his distinctive auburn mop and forest green eyes) and a cloak which had been generously rubbed in yak dung. The guards had just seen another filthy peasant and had been in a real hurry to wave him through and then retch at the stench.

He had dunked the cloak in water trough and rung it out to get rid of the worst of the smell before approaching the stable master and begging for work. He had been meek, persistent and accepted clearly bad terms for his day's labour and then he had been shoved through to the steward to be permitted to work. The man had again just seen a grubby and cowed peasant and had accepted his faltering assurances as he had turned to more important matters. Hiccup had been sent across the courtyard again and then he had paused.

As he watched, there was a ripple of murmuring and laughter as Snotlout, Dagur and Eret trudged back into the castle, stripped of weapons, cloaks and boots and clearly very footsore and muddy. Snotlout looked as if he had been rolled in a mud bath, Dagur had mud smeared all over his face and breastplate and Eret's suede garments were ruined. Hiccup bowed his head and smothered his chuckles: it wouldn't do to draw any attention to himself but it was hilarious to see his snobbish cousin in such a state. Then he scuttled to the stables and accepted a cuff to the head with a wince for dawdling on the way.

Hiccup glanced up after the cuff and gave a small smile, even though his head was ringing. He knew he had been fortunate in being assigned to work the stables-a place he could work in all day long-and he was shoved into a stall with a scruffy and badly-cared for beige nag. He frowned and saw a skittish horse. He laid his fork down and straightened up, approaching carefully. "Easy, easy," he murmured. The horse looked at him-and bit him. He leapt back, cradling his hand: the beast was very bad-tempered and even cleaning the stall would be hard. So he looked at the beast really carefully: it was chewing on the bridle and foaming a little at the mouth. Carefully he approached again and grabbed the bridle, unbuckling it quickly and pulling it away.

The beast immediately relaxed and he was able to stroke the nose gently. "Easy, boy," he murmured, peering at the mouth and seeing sores from a badly fitted bit. "That was sore, wasn't it…" and he looked at the bridle and the name marked on. "Fungus?" he continued. Then he realised-there was only one lunatic in Berk who would call a horse Fungus. He sighed and grabbed a brush: the horse needed a lot of care and he was just about to start when the door of the stall opened and an unpleasant voice sneered:

"What the 'ell yer doin' with me Fungus?" Hiccup started and cringed, hunching his shoulders and looking down. He backed away from the horse quickly, doing his best to look like a cowed peasant.

"I-I'm sorry, Milord," he muttered submissively. "He-he looked in pain so I took his bridle off… He-he seems better now…"

A clout from a staff slammed him to the ground and he allowed himself to fall clumsily. He could easily have ducked but Lord Mildew wasn't a total fool and was enjoyed hurting the staff. Everyone was afraid of the cruel old man and knew better than to avoid his punishments-because he would deal a far worse one to a serf disrespecting him. He scrambled to his knees, rubbing his shoulder.

"I'm s-sorry, Milord," he said, affecting a stammer. He had actually had one when he was younger, because being scrawny and taunted by your bigger and stronger cousin and all the other Heirs didn't do a lot for the confidence but he had it under control now. Mildew walked to his horse- a skinny balding old man with wild hair and sharp, mean features. Deliberately, he picked up the bridle and fastened it back on, too tight. The horse groaned and whinnied in pain. Hiccup stole a look up at the deliberate cruelty and earned himself another blow from the staff. Mildew beckoned to his steward.

"Beat him!" he ordered and Hiccup stiffened. There were a few options he had available: he could make a break for it and it was certain he could evade them-for the moment…but it would negate the reason he was here in the first place. He had risked coming back to the castle because he needed information and for that, he needed to stay here. So that meant he had to stay in character-no matter how many blows he had earned for trying to help the beast. Note to self-for the gods sake, STOP trying to help everyone! It only causes trouble, he reminded himself as he steeled himself. He bowed his head but Mildew leaned closer. "Unless yer want to commit treason? Then I could 'ave the axeman kill yer!"

"Um, no Milord?" Hiccup hazarded, head still down. "I'm really very extra sure I don't want to."

"I could order it mesel' but then I'd 'ave ter pay 'im…" Mildew persisted. "Yer could save me a few kronor…"

"Um, sorry, Milord…still not keen," Hiccup mumbled, earning himself another blow. He winced.

"That's the problem with them bloody peasants-never willin' ter 'elp their betters," Mildew grumbled. "Proceed!" Hiccup remained on his knees, head bowed as the steward grabbed his shoulder and raised his staff, then began to strike the outlaw. Biting against the groans, Hiccup took the beating without complaint, though he was trembling at the end. Mildew watched with a satisfied sneer, then snapped his fingers. The steward walked away and left the 'peasant' on his knees. "Just do yer bloody job!" Mildew snarled and left.

Hiccup looked up, breathing hard. He was angry as well as in pain: he hated cruelty and Mildew was renowned for his mean nature. Slowly, he got up then unfastened the bridle, patting the horse. He swiftly cleaned the stall, wincing as he pulled on his welts then checked the stables were empty…and headed out. Another battered peasant raised no suspicions in the castle so he was able to get into the back entrance of the kitchens with ease, grabbing a vial of oil ostensibly to refuel the lamps. Checking carefully, he headed up to the Clerk's office and listened at the door. He knew that any Treaties would be in the office and he needed to see what Spitelout had signed on behalf of the kingdom-and who he had aligned himself with.

He could hear breathing within and he knocked meekly, then entered as he was bidden. The Clerk-a bearded man with a superior expression-almost sneered as he saw the skinny shape carrying the oil vial. He turned back to the parchment he was slowly scribing as Hiccup meekly shuffled to three lamps and refilled all with care while craning his neck and catching a glimpse of at least one Treaty document on the table. It had to be a new Treaty because it wasn't rolled in a leather tube and stored in the main racks behind the clerk. He ducked his head as the clerk looked up and he swiftly finished, then left quietly, ducking behind a large statue of a former Viking Chieftain of Berk and waiting.

He had been there an hour, his long legs cramped and back aching from the beating when the door finally opened and the clerk scooted out, waddling swiftly down the corridor. It was what Hiccup had been waiting for and he paused, then dived in and closed the door with a quiet click. He had maybe ten minutes before the Clerk-who went for a snack at this time every day-returned with a plate piled high with sweetmeats and a large mug of mead.

Immediately, he headed for the desk and pulled the new Treaty free, his emerald gaze scanning the runes. It was a new Treaty between Spitelout-now shamelessly proclaiming himself the ruler of Berk-and Lord Drago Bludvist the Dark, the Prince of Blood. In it Drago was promising his entire navy and his army and their armoured dragons to exterminate Stoick and conquer the northern half of the Kingdom in payment for his support. Hiccup scowled, then rolled it up and stuffed it under his tunic as proof of Spitelout's treason. Then he swiftly turned to the racks and found the newest Treaties-all by Spitelout and all with enemies of Berk, promising aid in overthrowing Stoick and supporting Spitelout's reign. All cost land or a lot of gold-which the poor people of Berk were funding through the unfair taxes or slavery. All predated the coup…and so were proof of Spitelout's treason.

Hiccup blinked hard, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew there was no one he could take these to now but he also knew that if he could ensure his father came home safely, these would exonerate him and condemn his treacherous Uncle. He grabbed the lot, muddled the remaining rolls to hide the gaps and dived for the door. He ducked behind the statue just as the heavy steps approached. He peered out as the Clerk lumbered up, his plate loaded with a mountain of sweetmeats and pastries that would have fed a starving family for a couple of days. He watched the man push in through the door-then dived away with his booty. And then the shout went up: the Clerk had noted the missing Treaty.

Wincing, Hiccup dived for the only way out close-a little-known back stair up to the guest suites on the second level. During his childhood, being bullied by Snotlout and the other nobles' children, Hiccup had found every servant shortcut or hidden alcove in the castle and he used that knowledge now to disappear. He knew the guest floor was free of guards because it was probably still considered rude to treat visiting nobles as if they were the enemy. So he was able to emerge cautiously and scan the corridor before trying to decide what to do next. He sighed. He had a number of bulky treaties in their leather sleeves and they weren't exactly easy to conceal. He paused: he needed a bag of some description to carry them. Listening cautiously, he approached the nearest door, then opened it and sneaked in.

A fist smacked into his face and he staggered back but a second blow tossed him onto his back. He blinked and glanced up-as an axe dug hard into his throat. He looked up into the furious sea-blue glare of Astrid, her favourite weapon nicking his skin. He swallowed carefully.

"This may look bad…but actually I can explain this…" he offered. She glared at him.

"How dare you enter my room, peasant!" she snapped.

"Now, that wounds me, Astrid," he protested gently. "I thought we were supposed to be friends forever." She frowned and he lifted his hands-carefully-and pulled his hood back, revealing his grubby face with the sharply angled jaw and little scattering of freckles, bright forest green eyes and tousled auburn hair. Her eyes widened.

"HICCUP?" she exclaimed. "What the Hel are you doing here? Aren't you meant to be running for your life with a price on your head?"

"I'm delighted to see you too, Milady," he said sarcastically. "Thanks for reminding me-I knew I'd missed something off my 'to do' list for the day…" She pulled the axe away and glared at him.

"You robbed me!" she hissed angrily. He stared up at her, still lying on the floor.

"Well, I could hardly spare you when I rob everyone else because that would really make you look suspicious…and from what I hear, your father is under enough suspicion anyway," he sighed. She frowned at him and offered him a hand. He accepted the strong jerk that hauled him to his feet and he bent down with a wince to gather his scattered scrolls. She frowned.

"What have you heard?" she demanded, still twirling her axe in her hand. "And what are those?" He looked at the scrolls.

"These'? They're…"

"None of your sarcasm, mister!" she warned him.

"Without my sarcasm, I can barely function, Milady," he sighed. "They're Treaties-between Spitelout and our enemies, proving his treason against my father. If he ever returns…" For a moment, his shoulders sagged and the uncertainty in his eyes was obvious.

"He will," Astrid said gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. He gave a watery smile.

"If he can evade all the enemies who are looking for him," he admitted. "I have heard that Spitelout is not pleased that your father helps the poor and shelters those he considers tax-evading scum! And he has ceded the north to Drago in the Treaty, so your lands will be taken by the Prince of Blood anyway." She stared at him in shock.

"What?" she gasped. He unrolled the scroll from under his tunic and allowed her to read the runes with wide and horrified eyes. "No! He can't. That's all our lands and holdings…" He gently took the parchment from her trembling hands.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "Though we may be able to delay it if we got the other copy. Is the Envoy on this floor?" She nodded.

"He's two rooms that way," she admitted.

"And there are balconies on these rooms, aren't there?" She nodded. "If I can get their copy, the Treaty will not be valid. They will have to redraft it and travel all the way back to Drago to get his seal and signature and then bring Spitelout's copy back here. I know Drago will not act until had signed proof of the Treaty in his hand. It may buy us some time." She stared at him.

"That is stupidly reckless!" she scolded him. "Some may say poorly thought out as well." He flashed her a confident grin.

"Then it's a good thing I never listen!" he shot back. "Can you knock the door? If he answers, keep him busy! And if not, open it and call me!" She start at him, then nodded, flicking her braid over her left shoulder and flouncing to the door. She was a skilled warrior and usually moved with aggressive purpose but where necessary, a legion of etiquette tutors had finally taught her how to glide and flounce in what was considered an enticing manner. Hiccup gaped and an eyebrow raised appreciatively.

"Lower that eyebrow, mister, or I'll chop it off!" Astrid threatened him and he smirked as she flounced out. He exploded into action, dropping his scrolls on the bed and pushing the glass doors open, then emerging quickly onto the balcony. He glanced across, then scrambled onto the stone wall and leapt across the the intervening balcony-and then again swiftly onto the target balcony. Immediately he pressed his aching body against the wall-then peered carefully into the room-to see Astrid waving wildly at him through the open door. He gave a relieved sigh then entered, scanning the room. His gaze fell on the Envoy's saddle-bags and swiftly walked over, flipping the flaps open and searching through-until he found the linen-rolled scroll of the Treaty. Once he had checked that, he continued searching through, retrieving the man's gold and a bundle of letters from Drago to various nobles that promised enrichment of they supported his bid to take not only the north of the Kingdom-but the remaining southern portions well. He breathed hard and grabbed them as well, then put the packs back and headed for the balcony-as Astrid gave a little gasp.

"What are you doing in my room?" Eret asked her roughly. She straightened up and frowned.

"I thought I heard voices inside-and the sounds of footsteps," she told him as if it were obvious, blocking her doorway and glaring at him, her arms folded aggressively across her chest. "I thought you may be being robbed-there are a terrible number of thieves and bandits around nowadays. Shame that the King can't keep the peace as well as we would hope!" He tried to peer past her but the door was only slightly ajar and he could only see a sliver of his bed.

"And did you see anyone in there?"Eret asked her shortly. She scowled.

"You interrupted me!" she snapped. He bunched his fists but knew not to shove her aside-because that may cause more trouble than it was worth with Snotlout and Spitelout. He gritted his teeth.

"Then I would be most grateful, Lady, if you would let me pass so I can check my belongings of myself?" he asked sarcastically. She inclined her head and paused.

"If you wish," she said grudgingly. She didn't move. He scowled and dropped his hand deliberately to the pommel of his sword.

"My Lady?" he said through gritted teeth. She moved aside and he flew in as she flounced away, slamming her door with admirable force. Hiccup looked up from the bed where he was sitting, scanning through the letters.

"You told him I was robbing him?" he asked her, looking hurt.

"I am an honest woman," she reminded him smugly. "I warned him what was happening…how could he suspect I was in any way connected with you?"

"You make a horrible look-out," he grumbled as she walked over to him.

"Anything useful?" she asked, peering at his sheath of letters. He nodded.

"Drago is playing double bluff," he sighed. "He wants the whole of Berk. The Treaty cedes him the north-and he plans to take the south by force and treachery. I have the second copy of the Treaty and a little contribution to the poor. And these…will not make their intended recipients." He sighed and got up achingly. "I need a favour…"

"Another one?" she asked incredulously. "You are pretty demanding for a penniless, landless hunted traitor and outlaw!" He winced and closed his eyes.

"Astrid," he sighed quietly. She said nothing, realising she had hit a little too low. "A bag of some description would be helpful to carry these away…" She paused, then turned to the closet and fished out a large cloth bag.

"Would that help?" she asked. He nodded and stuffed the scrolls in. Then he was hit in the face by a gown. "And put this on!" she snapped. He stared.

"Erm…what?" he said in a confused voice.

"Put it on!" she growled.

"Erm…not sure it's my colour, Astrid…" he protested. It was baby pink and had lace around the neckline.

""Put it on…and this cloak…and you can take the bag with this gown in to Dora the seamstress in the town, up by the forest's edge," she told him tartly. He stared at her: he was the master of reckless plans but this was even crazier than any of his! But he tossed aside his cap and hood and stripped the tunic off his lean torso. He heard her gasp and he stopped.

"Sorry, I should have warned you about all the raw Vikingness!" he murmured but she was staring at the ugly red welts and fresh black bruises over his shoulders and back.

"Are you…okay?" she asked, her tone concerned. He looked up and nodded.

"I'm fine, Astrid," he reassured her, pulling the soft pink grown on and struggling to wriggle into it, though he was very lean and the unlaced bodice was surprisingly generous. "But this really isn't my colour…or my shape…" he added. He was hit by two tightly wrapped stockings. He held them up with a cynical expression on his face. "Do I need to ask?" he said dryly as she huffed, walked forward and expertly stuffed them down the front of his dress to give him some semblance of curves. His eyes widened. "You've done that before!" he noted. She pursed her lips.

"Tell anyone and I will chop several pieces off you!" she threatened.

"Join the queue!" he fired back, though there was a small smile. "Though I would rather you than Snotlout, to be honest." She wrapped the cloak around his lean shape and pulled the wide velvet hood a long way forward to conceal most of his face, then adjusted the cloak carefully.

"You may need to hunch a bit." she admitted. "You look too tall for a woman."

"You were taller than me until three years ago," he reminded her. She looked up into his tired face and smiled.

"Not any more," she smiled, then landed a firm punch on his shoulder. He yelped.

"What-what was that for?" he protested.

"That's for robbing me!"

"But I let you keep your jewels!" he whined. So she leaned up and gave him a small kiss on the lips.

"And that's for everything else, Mister Outlaw," she smiled. "Now off you go, Helga! I want those gowns back by the morning."

"Right you are, Madame," he said in an unconvincing falsetto. She burst out laughing and swatted him on the shoulder.

"You are so dead if you try that on anyone!" she laughed and walked him to the door. He paused and leaned close to her.

"Be careful," he told her in a low voice. "Spitelout and especially Alvin do not like your father. They are planning to remove his lands-maybe by force. He is in danger-so do not do anything too extreme to antagonise them. If I hear anything, I will get word to you. I promise!" She nodded.

"And I will warn you if I hear anything of import, mister!" she told him and grinned. He adjusted his 'chest'-which had slipped and she escorted him briskly out of the room. They made it to the gatehouse uneventfully, with Astrid apparently chatting with her maid, before the girl trotted out of the gate and up the hill at a reasonably fast pace for a serving woman. She was watching him vanish among the little hovels of the upper town when Snotlout stopped at her side.

"Hey, Princess," he greeted her and she rolled her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she asked shortly. He offered her his arm and she took it because she had to appear to play along…for now.

"A thief has been in the bedrooms," he warned her. "He has already plundered the Envoy's room-I would hate you to lose any more valuables after your unpleasant experience on the way here!"

"Mmm? Oh yeah, the outlaw," she said distantly. Then she smiled. "Thank you, Lord Snotlout." She patted his arm. "But I can find my own way back from here!"

oOo

In the forest, Hiccup was sprinting along the forest track, his gown flapping and cloak trailing behind him. The bag bumping at his side held the worst possible news of the beleaguered kingdom of Berk. He needed to get back to Gobber and see if there was any way he could save his home from being annexed by Drago's bloodthirsty empire. Imagining his poor people and his beautiful homeland under the heel of that bloodthirsty madman was really too horrible to contemplate…


	5. Visits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes-the time-honoured plot device of having the hero dress as a woman…works every time! I had a number of requests for what happened when Hiccup made it back to the camp. So how could I resist?

Hiccup's return to camp caused consternation, to say the very least. As he finally ducked through the narrow pass at the end of the steep, rocky climb down from the top of the cove, he was met by as wall of men with loaded bows facing him. He froze, slowly raised his hands and sighed.

"What do you think you're doing, here, Miss?" Gobber growled, holding his crossbow precariously balanced on his hook.

"Miss? Miss?" Hiccup spluttered, knocking his hood back. "It's official: the world has gone crazy!"

There was a stunned silence with eyes staring everywhere but the gowned shape of their leader. Bows were lowered but apart from that, nobody moved.

"Erm, Hiccup-you do know you're wearing a dress?" Fishlegs asked cautiously, seemingly unwilling to broach the subject.

"Really? I wondered why my tunic appeared to have stretched...a lot. And gone pink!" Hiccup growled.

"Hiccup's a girl?" Tuffnut said, looking confused.

"Erm...looks like it..." Fishlegs sniggered.

"How long has Hiccup been a girl?" Tuffnut asked, his face confused.

"That dress fits really well," Ruffnut added admiringly. Tuffnut brightened up.

"Well then, my pretty, do you fancy a date with the world's greatest lover?" he offered. Hiccup face-palmed.

"No!" he snapped.

"How about me?" Tuffnut persisted, looking a bit more desperate. "C'mon, Hic-the only other girl in camp is my sister and...damn-no!"

"I am not a girl!" Hiccup shouted. Ruffnut patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't be afraid to get in touch with your feminine side," she soothed him.

"You haven't!" her twin pointed out.

"Yeah, so I know what I'm talking about!" she replied.

"I. AM. NOT. A. GIRL!" Hiccup bellowed.

"Don't get yer skivvies in a twist lass...er, lad" Gobber sniggered and Hiccup groaned.

"Not you too?"

"Hey, what is the girl equivalent of skivvies?" Tuffnut asked him. "I'd ask Butt-Elf here but I don't think she'd know!"

"Hey! But actually no..."

"Petticoats," Hiccup sighed.

"Definitely a girl," Tuffnut whispered loudly to his sister, nodding and gesturing.

"You were lucky Snotlout didn't see you," Fishlegs said, having finally managed to stop giggling. "Rumour has it he chases anything in a skirt...and I'm sure you wouldn't want him having a good snuggle..."

"Thank you, Fishlegs-it will take years to get rid of that mental image!" Hiccup groaned.

"Has suave Hiccup the Charming actually gone red at the thought of 'Wandering Hands' Snotlout's attentions?" Ruffnut sniggered loudly to her brother as Hiccup blushed beet red. He face-palmed again and gritted his teeth.

"ENOUGH!" he shouted and they immediately calmed down…mostly. "I have some very serious news. Things are worse than we thought. Spitelout has made Treaties with ALL of our main enemies and he has ceded the whole of the northern half of the kingdom to Drago the Dark. And I have further proof Drago is planning a double cross and will be invading the rest of Berk once he had the north under his control." He sighed and wiped the sweat from his face: it was hot and very awkward running in a gown. "I have both copies of his Treaty with Drago-which may delay things a bit-plus all the letters to the traitors...who we probably should scare off a bit. And a small contribution to the poor from Drago's envoy..." And he tossed the heavy pouch of gold to Gobber. The old sword master cracked a grin.

"I see ye haven't lost yer touch, lass…"

"GOBBER!" Hiccup's expression was exasperated as he waved the bundle of letters from Eret's saddle-bags. "So we need to pay the Lords named in these letters a visit-as Drago would not waste time in contacting them unless he had good reason to suspect they would be amenable to his advances. And we watch and intercept all messengers between the Castle and the North-and all taxes flowing back. We need to starve Spitelout of funds, intelligence and allies!" Tuffnut raised a hand cautiously.

"Hiccup?"

"Yes…"

"Dude-I dig what you're saying but it would sound so much more impressive if you weren't still wearing a dress!"

"TUFFNUT!" Hiccup snapped. Then he gave a calculating smile. "Though you do know that pink is really a colour for blondes…"

"What?"

"Hey-don't look at me!" his sister told him immediately. "I don't do dresses!" Tuffnut sighed in resignation.

"FINE! As long as I get to keep the petticoats…"

oOo

"He got BOTH copies?" Spitelout screamed, throwing his goblet at Alvin. The Sheriff swatted the goblet aside and paced slowly towards the usurper.

"The Clerk noticed the Treaty gone from his office as soon as the returned from 'is break," he growled. He had ensured the man would never leave his duty for a break again. "There were also several other recent copies of Treaties you signed…with Outcasts, Berserkers, Dragon Hunters…"

"Who would…" Spitelout began and then his face folded into a hateful scowl. "Hiccup!" Alvin paced backwards and forwards.

"Drago's copy of the Treaty was taken from 'is envoy's room," Alvin continued. "Lady 'Offerson was seen at 'is door and warned 'im she 'eard someone inside. Otherwise 'e may not 'ave checked until 'e left 'ere."

"I know my nephew was friends with her when they were children-though she is here now to marry my son," Spitelout mused. "She has yet to set the date but she is a daughter of House Hofferson and will do what is required for the safety of her people be her family." Alvin looked thoughtfully at him: Astrid had been cool to the Sheriff and it was clear she blamed him for the taxes and penalties levied on the peasants of as Scauldron Bay. He didn't trust her but had no proof to bring against her-for now. He promised silently to watch her really closely. He paced the room heavily.

"It's clear the peasants shield 'Iccup because 'e 'elps them with their taxes," he said mildly. "So we 'ave to make it plain that 'elping 'im will only bring them more 'ardship!" Spitelout frowned.

"And how do you plan to do that, Alvin?" he asked suspiciously. The big leader of the Outcasts gave a nasty leer.

"They've 'ad it easy so far," he glowered. "Now we make it 'ard for 'em- and make sure they know who's ter blame!" Spitelout gave a cruel smile.

"Let's see them help hide Hiccup when he's responsible for their homes being burnt and children sold in slavery!" he gloated.

oOo

Fishlegs had been visiting his mother when the raid happened. Despite being outlawed, he was a kind-hearted and dutiful son and he visited his mother at least every week to ensure there was enough wood, food, money and any chores and repairs were done. The bulky shape was familiar with the villagers and no one had ever been tempted to turn him in because Hiccup had helped them so often with their taxes-and Fishlegs was a kindly young man who would help anyone if they needed a hand. In recompense, the villagers usually sent Fishlegs back to the outlaws laden with bread, stew, salted yak and of course, Fishlegs's mother's famous crab cakes.

But on this occasion, he had just started chopping the logs when the thunder of hooves sounded and the husky young man ducked behind the woodpile and peeked out as Dagur and a dozen men raced into the village. The villagers ducked back into their homes as the Berserk Chief raked the little settlement with his crazed pale green gaze. Then, deliberately, he unrolled a scroll.

"This village, Thursund, is to be razed to the ground for the crime of helping the outlaw and traitor Hiccup Haddock," he announced. "All houses are to be burnt, all children to be taken into custody to be sold into slavery, all goods to be seized!" Fishlegs's blue eyes widened and as quietly as he could manage, he dashed into his home, grabbing his mother and hauling her from the small hovel before anyone could grab her. She struggled but he was very firm as he wrapped her shawl around her and held her concealed as the Berserkers began to toss burning torches into the small homes. He patted his mother gently on the arm.

"Stay here, Mom," he murmured and grabbed the axe. He needed to give the villagers a chance to escape. Moving lightly for a man of his size, he sneaked round the back of his home and charged the nearest man, the flat of his axe smacking him on the side of the head and knocking him senseless. He stamped the torch out and ran towards the next man, slamming him aside as he chased after a couple of kids. Fishlegs pushed them back and pointed urgently to the nearby forest. "Run!" he hissed and ran on.

Dagur saw him felling a third man to free a young mother and her children and the Berserk Chief wheeled his stallion round and charged at the outlaw. Fishlegs saw him coming and dived down, whimpering "Oh, Thor! Oh, Thor!" Dagur almost trampled him and Fishlegs rolled away, the axe flying up to block a battle-axe aimed directly at his head. He was aware of the sounds of crackling and the smell of burning wood then billowing black smoke swirled around him. He snatched a glance to see half of the village burning.

"Hello, Fishface!" Dagur sneered, swinging at him again. "Where's my brother? Is he too much of a coward to face me? To face what he has caused?" Fishlegs stumbled up and backwards, backing away, his axe readied.

"I think…" he panted, "…that you…have done this…all by yourself…!" Dagur threw back his head and laughed, tossing a torch into another hovel.

"WRONG!" he roared. "This is punishment for his crimes! He has stolen something from the King-something very important-and we will continue until he hands it back-or they hand him over!" He looked at the shocked villagers-those that had not already run for the forest. "Pass the word, you rats! We'll continue destroying villages and taking slaves until your precious Hiccup hands himself over!"

Fishlegs stared in utter shock and backed away, watching the men check that every home was aflame. He could hear children crying in their grasp but he had a group of women and children behind him and he was afraid to leave them unprotected. Dagur laughed at him as his men retreated, their work done and young prisoners slung across their saddles. The outlaw felt his heart break as he heard them cry in fear-and the desperate cries of their families as they were stolen away. But as he retreated, two dozen rescued villagers cowering at his back, his only thought was for his mother-who was still hidden-and that he should get the villagers to safety before telling Hiccup that things seem to have gotten far worse.

oOo

Predictably, Hiccup was worried and horrified to hear what had happened to the village-and more that Spitelout was doing it in revenge for his theft of the Treaties. He listened to the story wordlessly, send the rest of the gang to lead the villagers to safety on a deserted village they sometimes used as a hideout with some food for the newly homeless peasants and then turned to Gobber.

"I should hand myself in," he muttered. Gobber folded his arms and scowled at him.

"I thought I'd brought up a smarter lad than that," he said gruffly. Hiccup folded his arms around his body and felt Toothless suddenly pressed his warm body against the boy's leg. Automatically, he dropped a hand to fondle the wolf's head and felt the firm pressure under his fingers.

"You did," he sighed. "But I am supposed to protect the people of Berk, not get them killed or enslaved."

"And this is designed ter get yer ter hand yersel' over, laddie," Gobber said sympathetically.

"And to get the people to blame me for it-and remove any support I have from them," he added morosely. "I know it's Alvin's idea-Spitelout simply isn't smart enough to come up with this on his own. But the end result is the same-people suffer. They've burnt their homes and possessions-and taken the children…" He fell silent and his mentor stared at him. It was easy with his sarcastic wit and cocky confidence to forget that Hiccup was still a young man wracked with doubts and worried sick for his father and his land.

"We'll get 'em back, lad," he assured the boy. Hiccup sighed.

"What-what would my Dad do?" he asked softly. "I'm sure he wouldn't hesitate to hand himself over to save lives-or lead a full frontal assault on the castle almost single-handed. Instead, his stupid son has mucked everything up!" His tone had turned savage and he wheeled away, bitterly.

"Yeah-yer father who has vanished off ter fight the pirates-agin-leavin' Berk vulnerable ter yer treacherous uncle and his cronies!" Goober sighed. "Don't be yer father, Hiccup. Be yerself. I'm sure the Night Fury wouldn't start mopin' and throwing a prize sulk!" Hiccup sat abruptly on a boulder and pouted, drawing his knees up to his chest.

"Gobber…" he warned. "I can if I want to."

"Laddie-knowledge is power," Gobber reminded him, limping slowly towards him. Toothless inclined his head in inspected his friend: Hiccup's head was bowed and his shoulders slumped. He tended to take life far too seriously and his father had done a fine job in instilling an overlarge sense of responsibility in his son-often for things that were way beyond his control. "Why is Spitelout so desperate to get the Treaties back? Mebbe his allies are gettin' antsy about anyone seein' what terms they made?" Hiccup frowned.

"Or maybe he's promised them all the same thing-and he doesn't want them realising they aren't going to get it?" he murmured, his eyes suddenly calculating. "Or that Drago will take everything he promised them previously because the Prince of Blood wants the whole of Berk." He unfolded and stood up abruptly. Toothless pricked his ears and whined. Gobber inspected the young prince carefully and gave a slow smile.

"So whatscher plan?" he asked. Hiccup grabbed his bow and whistled to Toothless.

"I think we need to pay Lord Sven a visit," he said with a small smile.

oOo

Westcliffe was, as its name suggested, a manor overlooking the tall granite cliffs on the western part of the island, an hour's gentle ride from Berkingham. The manor was constructed of stone and wood, a fine single storey building with good fortifications and an unimpeded view of the approaches. So Hiccup simply clambered up the cliff and approached from the essentially unguarded side, easily penetrating the defences and sliding silently into the main building and the residential wing. Toothless had raced along the cliffs among the stunted shrubs, more agile than any human, and was awaiting his master's call.

Lord Sven the Silent was a man of average height, bald with a fine bushy moustache and quick, bright eyes. He was renowned as being canny and thoughtful in all his dealings. But he had sided with Spitelout and was making money from sale of slaves as well as stolen livestock and goods. He stared at his ledger for a moment, then flipped the top of his iron-bound strongbox open and trailed his thick fingers through the mound of gold coin and jewels. Much was pitiful-silver trinkets and amber and amethyst pendants bought as love-gifts-but a few pieces were gold and well-worked. Sven lifted a little pendant shaped like an axe and smiled, then restored it to the pile.

"I don't think it's your style, Sven," Hiccup said shortly, his bow nocked and an arrow aimed straight at the man's heart. Sven gave a small shrug.

"Anything gold is my style," he said in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. Hiccup started.

"Hmm, unexpected," he said to himself. "I thought you'd be more…" He shrugged.

"Well, I'm always talked over-by men who now feed the worms or beg for my help," Sven said smugly. "That's why they call me 'the Silent'. But blowhards and arrogant fools always stole the show and my wishes were never considered. So I considered my position-and I chose my side."

"Poorly," Hiccup noted, his aim never wavering. "First Spitelout-and now Drago." Sven gave a false little laugh.

"I think you must be deluded, boy!" he sneered. "The stress of having your treason uncovered…being taken to the block. That must have been an experience…"

"I was thinking of having a haircut anyway," Hiccup shot back, though his voice was toneless. He had nightmares about those few seconds where the axe had rested on the back of his neck and the overwhelming sense of failure had engulfed him. "Not an issue you face!" Then his eyes hardened, grim chunks of emerald in a determined but pale face. "I've read the letter, Sven!"

"I don't know what…" the man lied and he heard the string of Hiccup's bow creak.

"You know, Drago the Dark wouldn't write such a letter for his envoy to deliver by hand unless he knew you would accept his terms," Hiccup said coldly. "He wouldn't make the formal offer in writing of a Treaty with you unless he knew you had already verbally agreed to be his vassal, to sell out what was left of Berk after Spitelout traded away the North. To crush our entire people under his vicious rule."

"If you read the letter-traitor-then you know I was granted extraordinarily generous terms for my fealty!" Sven smirked and twirled a gold coin. He flipped it at Hiccup and the young outlaw flinched. In that second, Sven moved, diving towards the door and out into the main hall, yelling for his men as the arrow buried in his chair. Hiccup cursed, picked up the coin and snatching another handful of loot from the strongbox-including one particular item that had caught his eye-before he sprinted after the man, giving a low whistle. He could hear answering shouts and cursed himself again. His father wouldn't have made that mistake!

Sven had made it to the Main Hall when Hiccup emerged and the outlaw didn't hesitate this time, unleashing an arrow that grazed Sven's ear as it whistled past him. Another was instantly in his hand, drawn back and aimed.

"The next one is in your black heart!" Hiccup growled through gritted teeth.

"I have three dozen men at arms who will take you down-boy!" Sven sneered, freezing and slowly turning to face the deposed Prince. "I am sure your Uncle wants to ask you a few questions about your banditry…"

"Sven, I am giving you one chance," Hiccup said quietly. "You renounce your allegiance to Drago and Spitelout and do as I command…"

"Or what?" the treacherous Lord sneered at him. Hiccup sighed.

"Ya know-I was really hoping you wouldn't ask that," he muttered then pulled back the arrow and narrowed his eyes. Sven grabbed at his sword as Hiccup whistled again and Toothless galloped in, growling ferociously. Sven hardly had time to turn as the wolf landed on him, bearing him to the ground, his teeth tearing at his sword arm and then switching to his throat. Hiccup dropped to a knee and spun, unleashing two arrows that took out the first two men who burst into the hall. Hiccup had already loaded another arrow as he heard Sven's screams grow more urgent.

"Hold, Toothless," he said in a low voice. Then he moved so he could inspect Sven while still covering the door. "Sven-I can come back and kill you any time. My father is Stoick the Vast: he will return and on that day, you can either be my friend or you can die horribly. So I suggest you return your stolen gold, free anyone you have taken to sell as a slave and restrict your activities to those a good nobleman would be expected to perform." He rose to his feet.

"And if you think these are empty threats, my Lord, I can put an arrow in your throat at a hundred paces-or simply fire an arrow into your manor at night and burn the place down," Hiccup said grimly. "If you set one foot outside these doors and you aren't my friend, you might as well bring your coffin along with you-because you will never return to Westcliffe!"

"That's…that's…" Sven gasped, whimpering in pain from his savaged wrist. Toothless was staring hard into his eyes with his fell acid green gaze and his powerful body was vibrating with a growl.

"Illegal? Maybe that would be something to do with my being an Outlaw!" Hiccup said evenly. "Though I am sure you had nothing to do with that…my Lord…"

"N-No…" Sven whimpered. Hiccup backed away from the door and back towards Sven's office.

"You have your chance-and your choice, Sven," Hiccup said quietly, retreating. "If you cross me, I will make an example of you for the other nobles…" He gave a smirk. "Not that any of them are likely to pay attention…" He whistled and Toothless leapt forward, through the door. Sven heard the bolts slam into place and clutched his hand closer to his chest. His men ran forward.

"Shall we force the door?" the sergeant asked but Sven shook his head.

"By the time you break through, he'll be long gone," he hissed. He dropped his head backwards onto the floor. He had seen the same look in the boy's eyes as he had seen many times in battle and council in the eyes of his father: there was no room for compromise and the determination to keep his word. Hiccup would do exactly what he promised. And though he was no Dagur, he had promised to kill Sven.

And Sven believed it. He stared at the roof as his men shuffled their feet. He nodded.

"Fetch my clerk! I have some letters to write!"

Outside, Hiccup was racing across the cliffs by Toothless, his pockets full of handfuls of snatched gold coins and a small pendant tucked inside his tunic. He was hoping his ultimatum would work because he really hated the idea of killing anyone-even a traitor-in cold blood. But he guessed Sven-who wasn't renowned for his bravery-would do his best to appear to comply. But more importantly, he had already checked that none of the stolen children had been imprisoned in Sven's Manor-they were still in Berkingham and that meant he still had time to rescue them.

But he would need help. He continued to jog along silently, Toothless loping at his side as he fished the pendant out of his tunic and looked at it. It was the small golden axe.

He knew just who he should ask…


	6. Axes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please Note- This chapter contains a HIGHLY INAPPROPRIATE action by one of the characters (Tuffnut-who else?). DO NOT try this at home! I do not condone ANY actions of this sort and doing what Tuffnut does will definitely get you into trouble!

Astrid had never lacked confidence which was handy because she was garnering a very large number of curious, disapproving and outraged looks as she strode down to the training range in her training outfit. Berkian society had become increasingly conservative and a Lady of her noble birth was certainly expected to comply with ideals of grace, beauty and domesticity. Astrid, however, had a fiery temper, a stubborn will and expert training in arms and she refused to skip her axe practice just because she had been commanded against her will to Berkingham to marry Lord Snotlout.

She flipped the double-headed axe in her hand and skipped down the stone steps to the training yard, the leather panels of her knee-length skirt slapping audibly. It was decorated with iron studs as was her slim leather headband, a homage to the traditional kransen of their Viking forebears. Her sleeveless tunic was sky blue but she wore a light long-sleeved white tunic underneath. Her leggings were a dull grey-blue and her knee-length boots and vambraces were both of well-tooled tan leather. she flipped her blonde braid over her shoulder and approached the axe range. There were two soldiers lazily practicing and they both straightened up as she approached, sketching mocking bows at the female.

Astrid gave smirk, took her aim and launched her axe straight into the centre of the target. Both men's expression fell and jaws sagged open. She stalked to the range, grabbed her axe and went back, then threw again. Over and over, she repeated the actions, sometimes from different positions or distances, sometimes two-handed and sometimes one. Once she was sure she was warmed up with every axe burying solidly in the centre of the target, she began combat practice, flipping the blade round in a swirling arc of lethal aggression, her footing sure and balanced, her eyes narrowed and vision not even impeded by the bangs that persistently flopped over her left eye. Astrid swirled and danced, her skills assured. Finally, she attacked a target and hacked at it, destroying it completely with a huge vertical blow that literally chopped it in two and was accompanied by a blood-curdling scream.

Breathing hard, she stepped back and inspected her handiwork-and heard clapping. Angry, she turned-to see Snotlout applauding her. She frowned and her grip on her axe tightened. "Pretty nice, babe," he complimented her. "Of course, not as good as me-but who is?" Astrid gritted her teeth at the mocking tone.

"I would value a demonstration from such a master," she snapped, wiping her sweaty forehead on her sleeve. "Unless Lord Snotlout is unable to match my meagre skills…" Snotlout scoffed and motioned for one of the soldiers to fetch him an axe. Astrid rested the head of her axe on the ground, her hands lightly holding the butt of the handle, her eyes careful. Snotlout wasn't bright-she doubted even his father would argue with that judgement-but he was very strong, had a good eye and a mean temper. Playing to his vanity was always a wise move and she wanted to see him in action. Snotlout flipped the axe and then threw-hitting the centre of the target. Arrogantly, he threw again and again and his aim was the equal of hers. But though he was strong, she noted he wasn't as quick or had such good footing. As he attacked the target, she realised he relied solely on brute strength and could be outflanked.

"See, babe?" he said, breathing hard. "I'm a superstar!" She smiled.

"Would you spar?" she asked him gently and he puffed his chest up.

"I'll go easy on you, babe," he promised with a wink. She tried not to gag.

"So will I!" she shot back and lifted her axe, Snotlout grinned, faced up to her and lunged. She ducked, slapped the axe from his grip and dug the blade into his neck. She smiled.

"Hey-no fair!" Snotlout protested. "Okay-I wasn't ready for that…" She stood back and allowed him to retrieve his weapon. "Again. Ready…steady…" And he attacked on 'steady', expecting to catch her off-guard. But she was ready and as he moved, she nonchalantly swept his legs from under him. He landed on his ass hard and stared up at her as she frowned.

"Oh, I'm sorry-weren't you ready? You did move!" she said in an apologetic voice.

"The sun was in my eyes!" he whined. "Do you want me to move the sun? Because I can, babe!" She offered him a hand but he scrambled to his feet, now more annoyed. He squared up to her in a proper, focussed stance and she smiled, her weight balanced and this time, it was a better contest-his strength slamming her back against her speed and agility. Eventually, she let him win, confident she had uncovered all his weaknesses. She fluttered her eyelashes a little as she let him take her hand.

"See, babe?" he gloated. She simpered-she'd never tried it before but it seemed to go down well.

"You were so skilled!" she offered with a little giggle and he preened.

"You're pretty good as well-for a girl!" he complimented her. "You and me are made for each other, babe! I can't wait until our wedding night…" She raised an index finger and wagged it slightly.

"Lord Snotlout-there is not even an engagement or a contract, let alone a date for a wedding!" she reminded him. "I am the last Heir to House Hofferson and I need careful courting! Flowers, gifts, wooing-you can do wooing, can't you? Minstrels, romantic meals, presents of land and property…" She smiled and made herself to stroke his face lightly. "Who knows-it could be fun…Snottykins!" He grinned.

"Babe-I'm all over it!" he told her and bowed, then walked off, whistling. She shuddered: she suddenly felt like she needed a good bath. But Hiccup had been right: you did catch more flies with honey than vinegar and while Snotlout was imagining she was interested, he would be trying to coax her into marriage and resisting the pressure to marry her by force. His father could just make a decree but that would condemn Astrid either to betray her lands or herself. At least she had bought some more time.

She walked slowly through the yard, her axe slung across her back. The cells in the far wall were noisy with the sounds of crying and pleading in high-pitched, young voices and her heart ached for the prisoners. She guessed that they were children taken against the supposed debts of their parents and would be sold into slavery in Meathead lands or beyond. She didn't hold with slavery and nor did her father but Spitelout certainly did and no one was safe. She sighed and walked on to the stables.

As she had been commanded to move to the castle, her father had sent most other possessions by cart via the longer but far safer coast road-including her clothes, her training outfit and, of course, her golden mare, Stormfly. The grooms swiftly saddled the beautiful horse and then frowned as she swung into the saddle. "My Lady-you should have an escort!" they called but she grinned.

"Catch me if you can!" she challenged them and galloped from the stables, storming through the castle and out, accelerating up the hill. "Up, up!" she urged the mare as they dived through the line of trees and entered Raven Point Forest. She had ridden there as a child with the Prince and knew the tracks well. And she did not fear the outlaws. In fact, Astrid Hofferson was going outlaw hunting.

oOo

A third village on the northern border of the forest had been burnt and Hiccup and his gang had barely made it in time to rescue as many as he could and chase off the attackers. But the people had lost almost everything they owned and the message-that it was his fault-was beginning to gain traction. The village headman had asked him why he hadn't surrendered himself already and he had shaken his head, explaining that his death wouldn't restore one penny of taxes or bring a single enslaved family member home. But the contempt in the man's eyes at his supposed cowardice had hurt him and he had turned away, leaving his orders and vanishing amid the trees.

Toothless had raced after him as he ran, his head down, his lanky shape bowed with misery. He galloped up into a tall spruce and walked across the interlocking branches until he was enshrouded in a little cave of spruce branches. He could hear Toothless growling below and he sighed and lay back on the branch.

"I know, bud," he murmured. "But I can't tell them about the Treaties. They wouldn't understand at all. I mean-pieces of paper for lives and homes? What would they understand-even though Drago's Treaty would condemn them to the most brutal rule imaginable? I can see the change in their eyes-they all want me to give up." He sighed and stared at the branches laced overhead. "It would be easier, I guess-but I have to make my father proud…and hang on and defend Berk...until I know he isn't coming back."

He sat up, then leapt from the branch and landed beside the wolf. Toothless solemnly gave him a little lick. "You know what's worst? Alvin has actually come up with a plan that's working. And unless I do something, the villagers will be queuing up to hand me over! And honesty-I can't sleep knowing that people are being attacked and hurt and made homeless and enslaved because of me." Toothless gave a little bark and he sighed. "Yeah, useless, wolf," he murmured. "Let's go and rob someone rich so at least I've got something to contribute!"

oOo

By the time she made the Cove-which she had known as a child-Astrid was tired and hot. She liked the Cove-it was pretty and isolated and a nice quiet place to think, away from the castle where there were eyes on her all the time. She had spent hours playing here with Hiccup, hours beating the smaller Prince at the axe and wrestling and reassuring him that his father did love him, despite his dubious physical prowess. They had promised to be friends forever here…and this had always been their special place. And…she suddenly ducked down…it was now full of outlaws.

Tethering Stormfly carefully, she silently walked round until she found the steep rocky entrance and climbed carefully down. Glancing around and wondered where the guards were, she ducked out of the entrance and found herself facing a wall of crossbows. Her eyes narrowed and she raised her hands.

"What are ye doin' here, lass?" Gobber asked her grimly, levelling his crossbow at her heart.

"I'm here to see Hiccup," she said honestly. "I guessed he'd be here."

"Did ye?" Gobber's face was even more cold and she raised her hands higher.

"We were here a lot as children and I have information for him," she said. "I want to help!"

"Let me handle this!" Tuffnut said suddenly. He walked forward and smirked. "I can see through your disguise!" Astrid frowned.

"Erm, can you?" she asked warily. Tuffnut was looking astonishingly confident and he was giving her knowing looks.

"Of course-it's nowhere near as good as last time!" he commented. Her eyes narrowed.

"Last time?" she asked shortly.

"Yeah-and I can tell you now-that outfit is really unconvincing!" he scoffed.

"How so?" Astrid asked and frowned. Ruffnut looked at Astrid-who was starting to look annoyed-and then at her twin and grimaced.

"Tuff?" she said in a last attempt to stop him. "I don't..."

"Don't worry, sis-he won't fool us this time!" Tuffnut told her confidently. "C'mon-H! These aren't even realistic!" And he grabbed Astrid's chest.

There was a moment of stunned silence as every bow was lowered, everyone backed away and Ruffnut momentarily visualised her twin's funeral.

The next moment saw Tuffnut being punched to the ground with Astrid's axe digging very hard into his neck. Her face was scarlet in fury as she leaned over him, preparing to finish him off.

"HOW DARE YOU?" she yelled so loudly they outlaws reckoned they could hear her all the way back to the castle. "I AM LADY ASTRID HOFFERSON AND I WILL KILL YOU FOR TOUCHING MY…"

"She will," Hiccup said, appearing behind her with Toothless at his heels. "I'd apologise now while you still can!" Tuffnut glanced from one to the other, completely confused-then he fainted. Ruffnut sighed.

"Maybe one day he'll get hit over the head and it will actually make him smarter," she sighed. "I apologise for my mutton-head brother. He can't even tell a girl by looking. Even when he's seen you before!" Astrid looked at her-almost identical to him-and an eyebrow raised for a moment before she backed away and calmed her breathing.

"Accepted," she snapped, flicking her bangs off her eyes. "And where were you anyway?" she growled, turning on Hiccup. He raised his hands and backed away.

"Erm-Toothless? Help?" he said worriedly as she smiled to the wolf and offered her hand. The wolf sniffed and offered a solemn lick. "Traitor," he grumbled as the wolf wagged his tail at the girl.

"Well?" she asked, folding her arms and scowling at him.

"I was robbing an auditor, okay?" he said defensively, retrieving a heavy pouch of coins and tossing it to Gobber. "You know the drill, Gobber-hand it on to those who need it."

"But you ran out on us!" Fishlegs told him quietly. Hiccup backed up a pace and his green eyes looked hurt. He stared at the floor. "Those people needed reassurance and you left."

"Those people told me to hand myself in Alvin," Hiccup replied quietly. "The Headman was cursing me. I didn't feel my presence was helping-or reassuring-anyone." He backed away another step. Astrid turned and took a couple of quick steps to his side, grasping his hands before he could turn and run.

"Wait!" she said quickly, her tone gentle. "They didn't mean it-because they didn't know what is at stake, did they?" He stared at the ground.

"My execution," Hiccup murmured slowly.

"And the subjugation and destruction of Berk as we know it," she reminded him gently. There was silence behind them. Hiccup glanced up. "They didn't know?" Astrid breathed.

"Yeah-but I think they're surprised that you do!" Hiccup informed her.

"Remember, Mister Outlaw, that I helped you get the letters and Treaties out of the castle!" she reminded him, raising a hand to stroke his face. He pressed his face briefly against her hand with the smallest hint of a smile.

"And I need your help," he said earnestly. "Alvin has been attacking villages-burning homes and taking the children as slaves. I know he'll sell them. Usually he sells the slaves through Sven the Silent but I have spoken to Sven and I think after our little chat, he's going to be out of the business…"

"Which is why the cells are full of terrified children," Astrid realised.

"They're all still here? Oh, thank Thor!" Hiccup gasped, sagging. "Then I need your help in getting them away!" She frowned and backed off a pace. "Astrid…I know I'm asking a lot…" he admitted, staring into her blue eyes. She sighed.

"If I get caught, Scauldron Bay will suffer," she reminded him quietly, turning away from him. She wrapped her arms around her body. "But I am a Hofferson and I am not afraid. I couldn't sleep knowing that children were being sold when I could have stopped it." She turned back to him. "What do you need?" He smiled and took her hand.

"Your eyes and ears," he said gently. "Find out when the children are being shipped out and tell us. We will do the rest." She smiled.

"Just tell me you're not wearing that dress again!" she sighed, rolling her eyes. He grinned.

"Not my colour!" he reminded her and gestured to the unconscious Tuffnut. "Meet your new 'Helga'!"

"You have to be kidding!" she spat. He winked and shrugged.

"He's actually a much better girl than me-or his twin sister," he admitted. She stared at him-then smiled.

"I've missed you, Hiccup," she admitted and he took her hand, kissing it chivalrously.

"Same here, Milady, though to be fair, my social diary was decimated by being made an outlaw and traitor." Then he slid something cool into her hand and closed her fingers over the object. She peered and saw a fine gold chain with a tiny golden double-headed axe pendant. "I saw it and thought of you," he admitted. She allowed him to fasten it around her slender neck and slid the pendant safely under her tunic. Then she stretched up and pecked him on the cheek.

"Be careful, Hiccup," she murmured. "You take too many risks!" He shrugged.

"If I don't, who will?" he asked with a lopsided grin. "Now, you need to get back, Milady or even Snotlout may start to become suspicious!" He leaned closer. "If you have any news, pass it to Lady Heather. She can get word to us." She smiled at him, nodded to the rest of the crew and then headed for the exit. Then she paused, brushed her bangs off her face and turned back, grabbing Hiccup's tunic and pressing a fierce kiss onto his lips. His eyes widened and he didn't dare breathe until she broke away with a coy smile and ran into the rocky exit. He stared after her, smiling goofily. Gobber waved his hook in front of his eyes.

"Nope, he's gone," he sighed. Ruffnut stared after Astrid and shrugged.

"She actually seemed cool," she admitted.

"Since when did 'she's rich and privileged and should pay her dues' turn to 'she's cool'!" Fishlegs asked her. She glanced at him, grinned and punched him on the arm.

"When she punched out Tuffnut," she told him simply. "Sweet!" Hiccup blinked and couple of times, his forest green eyes refocussing on the cove.

"I know how we can rescue the children," he said.


	7. I will steal it back!

"So how many 'ave yer 'it now?" Alvin asked, chewing away at his leg of mutton and slurping from a large goblet of ale. Dagur munched away at his mutton, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Five, now," he gloated. "There won't be many more havens for the outlaws now. The last two have been cursing the outlaws for not giving themselves up and several farmers have offered to turn him in if they see him themselves!"

"Good," Alvin said thickly, "Because we can't 'it any more." Dagur looked up sharply, his face folding into a scowl.

"Why?"

"Because Berk ain't that big!" Alvin scowled. "And if we 'it many more villages, there won't be any citizens left ter grow food, cut wood or pay taxes!" He sighed. "I know yer enjoy destroying things, my friend, but I'm sure we can find better use fer yer talents." Dagur slammed his knife into the table and rose to his feet glaring.

"What exactly?" he breathed, furious. Alvin gave a yellow grin and drained his goblet.

"I think we need ter set eyes in the forest," he said thoughtfully. "There are so many peasants from so many places now fleeing from yer attacks that it should be much easier to slip a couple of yer men inter the forest among the refugees. And once in there, it should be simple ter find out where the outlaws 'ide-out is…"

"…and once we have their camp, I can wipe them out-and bring my brother to justice!" Dagur said, grabbing the flask and pouring half the wine straight down his throat. "To victory!"

"Don't count yer chickens until yer've stolen 'em!" Alvin growled and finished his meal.

oOo

Hiccup sighed, sitting at the edge of the forest and staring down towards the castle. He was shaded by a bush and his forest green eyes scanned over the battlements of his former home, seeing unfamiliar pennants flying from the flagpoles. He wondered who was sleeping in his room, how his friends among the servants were faring and how the castle was being run. And then he sagged. By all rights, it was his duty to protect the kingdom from harm and he had failed his father.

He hugged his arms around his legs and felt Toothless nuzzle against his shoulder. He had really considered handing himself in, especially when a new train of refugees trailed into the forest, clutching what pitiful possessions they still retained and cursing the raiders. But more and more of them were cursing him as well because the destruction was being carried out in his name. The fact they were stealing children as well just made the villagers more unsympathetic to the disinherited prince. He sighed again, rested his chin on his knees and wondered what his father would have done.

"You'll get caught if you keep coming here!" Gustav told him, throwing himself down by the outlaw. Hiccup looked up, his expression thoughtful.

"So will you, if you keep sneaking out without permission!" Hiccup reminded him, eyeing the younger teen carefully.

"Aww, Hiccup-I gotta keep showing you how awesome I am-or I'll never get that wolf of my own!" Gustav told him brashly. Hiccup sighed.

"Oh gods," he murmured.

Gustav had idolised Hiccup since the young Prince had taken pity on the young orphan and insisted he and his older sister were given places in the castle, education and security. Heather was a responsible and clever young woman who worked discreetly in the household but Gustav was reckless, brash and completely unable to consider the consequences of anything he did. He wanted to be like Hiccup-so he stole horses and tried to ride-falling off in the process; he tried to use the bow with disastrous results and he had attempted swordplay, breaking a valuable sword in the process. And no amount of scoldings or punishments would deter the teen from becoming exactly like his Prince. So he had fixated on getting a wolf cub like Hiccup-despite the fact that Hiccup had endured a terrible amount of pressure from his father to give the wild animal up and had spent countless hours in training and bonding with the animal-because he thought that having a wolf would be cool. And for some reason, he had the ridiculous idea that Hiccup would just go and find him a wolf cub when he was deemed to be worthy!

"Word is that the children are being shipped out soon," he murmured. Gustav shrugged.

"Yeah, that's bad,' he agreed. "Are we going to do something about it?" Hiccup nodded.

"Erm, have you heard anything from the Lady Astrid?" he asked hesitantly. Gustav laughed.

"Her?" he scoffed. "I don't like her at all! Honestly, she's really cool to all the servants and looks at you like dirt! And anyway, Lord Snotface is going to marry her so you have to be really careful in being near her in case he gets mad!"

"One, you'll get into trouble if you call him that in anyone else's hearing and two-what?" Hiccup shot back.

"Yeah-Snot is courting her really badly. It's hilarious!" Gustav snorted. "Wait! You've not got your eye on her have you, Hic? If you want to marry anyone, you should marry my sister! I know she's sweet on you-and then you'd be my brother and it would be really cool and we could come and live with you…"

"On the run in the forest," Hiccup finished in a depressed voice.

"Wait-are you a Prince or an outlaw now?" Gustav asked.

"One of those," Hiccup said quietly. "Gustav-shouldn't you be going back now?"

"Nah-I've got time 'coz I'm supposed to be out foraging for wild garlic and…"

"And you need to get going-because so I have to as well…" Hiccup said, slowly levering himself to his feet, then leaning forward to sternly grasp the teen's shoulder. He stared hard into the boy's grey eyes. "Gustav-please learn to keep your opinions to yourself-especially where nobles are concerned. Otherwise, I will end up having to snatch you from the block." He straightened up. "And you'll never get a wolf if you don't learn to control your tongue!" Gustav's eyes widened and he looked hurt…then he nodded.

"You can rely on me, Hic!" he said with a grin and raced off into the forest. Hiccup rubbed Toothless's head as he watched him vanish. The wolf gave a little growl.

"Yeah, I know, bud-he'll get himself killed before he ever learns to keep his mouth shut!" he sighed then he stared back at the castle. "Astrid-please-I really need your help," he murmured.

oOo

Astrid collapsed back onto her bed and kicked her satin court slippers off. She had just endured a very trying dinner with Lord Snotlout-who believed that bigger was better, even where intimate romantic dinners were concerned. So a meal which should've been the two of them over a couple of well-prepared courses with preferably a minstrel picking away at his lute had been a twelve course roast dinner with eight of Snotlout's friends, seven different beers and a full orchestra blasting away. Chances of romantic wooing: nil. Fortunately, chances of having to listen to Snotlout's inane self-absorbed tirade: nil also.

Astrid closed her eyes. She had a headache from the orchestra (very poor quality and loud), from the raucous shouts as Snotlout and his friends had run a ferocious drinking contest and the appalling quality of wine. They had now had two dates (because Snotlout was counting the axe contest) and Snotlout had started to expect kisses on every encounter-which she had steadfastly refused to supply, offering her hand for a very unromantic shake. However, she had been listening to the guards as she had practiced in the axe range earlier and she was waiting when the neat shape of Lady Heather came into her room.

"You requested me, Lady Hofferson?" she said calmly, her grey eyes wary. Heather knew that most of the visitors to the castle despised her because it was no secret that she was of very mean birth, elevated by the Prince to her current position. She was granted the title 'Lady Heather' which just added to the resentment of the other staff who knew that she was a nobody just like them. Her slender shape was clothed in a plain smoky blue gown and her glossy jet hair was neatly knotted at the back of her head. Astrid sat up, staring at her directly.

"Heather, a friend who lives in the forest said that I was to speak to you if I had information for him," she said. Heather's eyes widened and then she lowered them again, clasping her hands neatly in front of her waist.

"You must be mistaken, my Lady," she said politely. "I know no one who could possibly…" Astrid's eyes narrowed and she was about to snap at the girl when she recalled that anyone could be listening -and that Heather may not have many friends among the servants.

"I was mistaken," she sighed. "I apologise." She lay back and tugged her long golden hair from her braid, pulling the long strands loose over her silver gown. "I was just so distressed to hear that those poor unfortunate children in the cells-the ones who were so horribly taken to pay for the actions of that outlaw-will be taken from their cells at dusk tomorrow and walked to the port, to be taken on a slaver ship! Poor youngsters-what a horrible fate, to be sold at a Meathead Market and never see their families again! I am just so upset that no one will do anything to save them…" She sighed dramatically and looked at Heather through her eyelashes. "I am sorry to waste your time, Lady Heather." She smiled and closed her eyes as she heard the girl turned and quietly let herself out of the room. Her hand snaked up to the little axe pendant around her neck and she smiled.

"Over to you, mister outlaw," she murmured.

oOo

Dagur was grumbling and his temper was short. He had been assigned by Alvin to ensure that the children made it safely to the port: usually Sven the Silent acted as their agent for the slaves but the Lord had taken to his Manor and hadn't been in the town for weeks. And worse, he had stopped answering Alvin's messages. Angered, the Sheriff of Berkingham had negotiated directly with the Meathead slavers and had cut out the middleman completely-and increased his profits by a tidy margin. The slaves would leave from Berkingham Port, down the cliffs from the town and all that had to be done was to deliver the slaves safely to the Port. So Alvin, who was anticipating a fat profit from the sale of the slaves, wasn't leaving anything to chance and had assigned Dagur and his men to escort them.

For Dagur, the whole fun of the process was attacking and burning the villages, rather than the very dull financial side of things. He hated children, loathed the town of Berkingham and wanted to kill something-preferably in the next hour or so. In fact, the only attraction on the mission was the small possibility of encountering Hiccup, who had been rather reticent of late and had not come racing in every time a village was attacked.

The Berserk Lord cast his cold pale green glare across the cargo: over a hundred children, dressed in rags and grubby. All of them were tear-streaked and barefoot and very, very scared. Varying from about four years in age to mid teens, the children were cowed and confused: no one understood why they had been taken away, locked up or why they were now being forced in chains from their cells and out towards the gates of Berkingham Castle. It was getting dark and it was cold and the frost was already settling in. A humane person would have sympathised with their plight: Dagur was just irritated by their snivelling. So he cracked his whip and his men shoved the kids along. There were sobs and cries and he wheeled his horse around to face them:

"LISTEN!" he shouted, drawing his sword. "Any noise and I will chop to pieces the person who annoys me. IS THAT CLEAR?"

Three small children immediately burst into tears and Dagur almost exploded in rage. He galloped at the nearest one, a small boy with scruffy red hair but a skinny older boy raced forward and snatched the small child away, shushing him. The sword whisked over their heads and Dagur wheeled around, raising his arm to swipe at them again.

An arrow almost took his head off and he ducked, screaming "OUTLAWS!" The children all began crying and huddled together as arrows peppered the ground near the Berserker. "SHOOT THEM!" he bellowed as his men all lined up and began firing wildly across the village towards the forest. Arrows peppered roofs, walls, doors and the ground. Anyone wandering around dived for cover as more arrows arched down from the shadows on the edge of the forest. Dagur roared in fury and sent his men racing after the attackers.

"IS THIS THE BEST YOU CAN DO, BROTHER?" Dagur screamed into the darkness, thoroughly disappointed at the tepid attempt to rescue the children. "You UTTER coward! Leaving this kids to face their fate and you hide in the darkness and just fire a few arrows at us! Gods, THAT'S PATHETIC!" He wheeled around and gestured to his four remaining men to herd the terrified children down the hill. He snapped a bolt into his crossbow and pointed the crossbow at the children.

"Move!" he hissed. Heads down, hands clamped together for comfort, the children walked down the hill, along the rough stony path to the edge of the cliffs and the long ramp down to the docks. Many were limping and the men shouted and threatened them so they didn't dare slow. Finally, Dagur reached the heavy, ugly boat that was moored at the docks. The Meathead flag was hanging limply from the mast and the Captain, a husky man in leather tunic with his enclosing helm that completely hid his face nodded.

"This the cargo?" he growled.

"Yes-now get rid of these brats before I start killing them!" Dagur snarled. The Captain folded his thick arms.

"That'd reduce the fee," he replied gruffly. Dagur rolled his eyes.

"BORING!" he shouted. "Come on-get those little runts on board before I completely lose my temper!" The men shoved the children on board and the crew herded them down into the Hold. The Captain drummed his fingers on the side of the ship.

"One hundred and twelve," he said.

"Whatever," Dagur growled and extended his hand. "Now-it's time you paid me." The Captain nodded and his first mate hobbled forward, half-bent as he struggled carrying a small wooden chest. He handed it over carefully to his Captain with a nod.

"I think you'll find everything you're due," he said and Dagur leaned forward to grab it, then wrenched the lid off-to show a pile of stones. He looked up-to see the first mate straighten up, his bow aiming straight at his heart. Hiccup's green eyes gleamed in the flickering light of the torches, the cap covering his auburn hair slipping back.

"In fact, probably more than you're due," he added. "Those are good quality stones!" The other crewmen had already cut the lines and had pushed the boat away from the mooring.

"BROTHER! How DARE you…you…" Dagur spluttered, almost beyond words. Hiccup grinned.

"Is this pathetic enough for you?" he asked with a triumphant smirk. "I'm stealing the children, the fee and this ship. And don't ever forget, Dagur-whatever you steal, I will STEAL IT BACK!" Dagur gaped and reached for his crossbow, but Hiccup's arrow buried in his hand and he screamed, snatching it to his chest. He looked around: a dozen of the crew all had bows aiming at him and his very depleted company of men.

"I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN!" Dagur screamed. Hiccup lifted another arrow and dipped the tip in the torch, aiming upward.

"In what?" he taunted the Berserker, pulling back the arrow and firing. Dagur watched in horror as the flaming arrow arched overhead and landed on the deck of the flagship, tied at the next mooring. Instantly, flames began to flicker and grow. Dagur stared for a long moment.

"Put it out!" he screamed and his men turned-as the flames spread to the sail. Hiccup watched, chuckling, as the men forgot about the retreating outlaws and the stolen children and ship and tried to put out the flames. But they had already taken hold-because the deck had been soaked in mead and tar by Hiccup's men before they had boarded the slave ship and captured the crew. The outlaw felt no regret in burning his father's flagship-because he knew it would be used against Stoick if he ever returned to Berk.

"Give my regards to Alvin!" Hiccup shouted as the boat swung away and out to sea.

"HICCUP!" Dagur screamed at the retreating shape. "I WILL EAT YOUR HEART!"

oOo

Astrid tried not to smile when she heard the news. Alvin was said to be raging and Dagur had wrecked the armoury and had been rumoured to have thrown three of his men into the harbour. The flagship had been wrecked, the charred hulk sinking in the harbour and blocking the prime moorings for good measure. Spitelout, Snotlout, Alvin and Dagur were all holed up in the Hall for a conference over whose fault it had been so she changed into her training gear and made her way down to the stables to go riding.

The scruffy groom had already brushed and saddled her horse and meekly offered her his hands to help her into the saddle, rather than having to use the mounting-block. She nodded briskly and grasped the saddle, resting her boot on his hands and accepting the boost up. She scooched into position and grabbed the reins. The groom paused then looked up at her.

"Wow. He was right-you really don't pay servants any attention!" he commented. Her head snapped round to meet Hiccup's amused green gaze, his face grimy and a dirty hood shadowing his features.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "You are in danger!"

"So are you!" he hissed back. "If you don't pay attention to what is happening around you, you may be spied on, kidnapped or murdered-Milady!" She glared at him.

"I can take care of myself!" she hissed back. He bowed his head quickly as a guard walked by, his shoulders hunching and posture changing to look like a starving peasant.

"I'm sorry, Milady," he said in a humble voice as the man glared at him, then lunged forward and cuffed him roughly round the head. He flinched and staggered at the blow.

"Don't backchat your betters, scum!" the guard sneered and strode on. Hiccup grimaced then looked up.

"By the way-thanks," he murmured as he grasped the bridle and led the horse to the door of the stall. "The children are safely on their way back to their parents, the money that would have been paid for them has been handed on to the villagers as well-and we now have a ship at our disposal." She sat upright in the saddle as he led her horse sedately towards the main gates.

"What about the crew?" she asked softly. He managed a small smile.

"They were picked up by a fishing boat this morning, floating on a makeshift raft on the opposite side of the island," he answered, ducking his head as another guard walked by. Astrid kicked her heels into the horse's flanks and the walk quickened. "Hey-not fair!" Hiccup mumbled.

"So are you going into piracy?" she asked him sharply. He stole a glance up at her and gave a small shake of the head.

"Got enough on my schedule with banditry, theft and treason," he told her sarcastically. "I'd need a bigger gang for piracy as well."

"I guess the Prince will be happy to outlaw some more recruits for you," she shot back, missing the pain in his eyes as she used his title for his treacherous Uncle.

"Can't wait," he muttered, walking slowly under the gatehouse. "How's Snottykins?" She smiled.

"Oh, still an idiot!" she said smugly. "Besides-he doesn't stand a chance. I prefer my men lanky, auburn and outlawed!" He swung his gaze up for a moment to inspect her smiling face.

"I am flattered, Milady…as long as you use your eyes and watch everyone around you carefully," he said in a low voice as they crossed the main thoroughfare and began up the hill. "By the way, I prefer my women blonde, feisty and axe-wielding." Then he bowed and let her bridle go as she accelerated to a trot and headed for the forest. Then he continued walking up past the next house and ducked into the alley behind, hunkering down by Gustav. He dragged his hood off and stared at the teen. Gustav was looking worried.

"News?" Hiccup asked him gently, seeing the boy looking very nervous.

"They suspect someone in the castle betrayed the time of the slave transfer to you," he whispered. "So it's gonna be harder to get out now." Hiccup nodded.

"There's more?" he guessed. Gustav nodded wildly.

"Alvin and Spitelout were furious at the loss of the fees for the children-so they are hitting the northern manors for heavy new taxes. And this time they will be targeting the Lords and knights as well!" he reported. "Especially Scauldron Bay." Hiccup frowned and turned head to look up the hill towards the forest-and the rider vanishing between the trees.

"And Astrid's father," he realised.


	8. Ransoms and Yaks

The prison was dank and grim, the guards patrolling incessantly outside the cell where the most valuable prisoner sat in chains, brooding. Stoick the Vast, King of Berk, counted the steps as the men paced to the end of the corridor and back, then shook his head slowly. He had been heavily guarded since he had been taken hostage by the pirates and sent here to Meathead lands to await a ransom.

But the news he had gleaned from back home had alarmed the King as he had listened to his guards. They had taken delighted in telling him that Berk was in turmoil. Stoick had listened with dismay at the scornful declaration that in his absence, his son Hiccup had tried to seize the throne and had been declared traitor. Stoick had felt real alarm that his brother was now on the throne, notionally acting as Regent for the absent King…but also in charge of gathering and administering the ransom that had been demanded for Stoick. The King expected that no ransom would ever be handed over for him…and he feared for his son. He knew his own boy-and knew without doubt that Hiccup would never act against his father. The boy had spent his entire life wanting to make his father proud and had never sought the throne-because he still didn't believe he was worthy or capable of becoming King. The reports of his treason were a lie.

Stoick tightened his huge fists. He was an enormous man, tall, broad, built like a small mountain and able to crush rocks with his bare hands. His flaming red hair was braided in the old Viking style and his enormous beard concealed his upper chest. No one could mistake him and he had been targeted by the pirates for capture. He scowled and looked across to his companions: Hoark, Ack, Lars, Sven the Garrulous and Olaf. These men were his inner circle with the only one missing being Gobber-who had remained to look after his son.

"Four?" he asked. Sven nodded.

"Same as every day, sire," he murmured. Stoick nodded.

"You've plotted the route, Hoark?"

"Sire. They aren't expecting anyone to get out of their precious prison."

"So they don't know me! Lars-how's that door coming?"

"The lock's almost out, sire and Olaf and Sven are holding the door by the hinges which we've already unscrewed. Just give me the word and I'll have the last bolt out." Stoick rose and snapped his chains without having to strain too hard. He walked almost silently to the door, counting the steps outside.

…three…four…five…

"Ack, Olaf-be ready on my mark," the King said. He nodded to Lars.

…eight…nine…ten…

"Now!" he whispered.

The bolt came free and the door slammed straight out of its frame, slamming three of the four guards unconscious immediately. The fourth turned to run as Olaf and Ack grabbed him…and then a huge hand closed around the man's throat, lifting him bodily off the ground. He choked and stared in shock into he cold, grey-green eyes of the King.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Stoick growled, "but we don't want to outstay out welcome." He threw the guard across the corridor, knocking him senseless. His men burst into actions, grabbing the men's weapons and uniforms, dragging them into the cell and replacing the door. Sven, Lars, Olaf and Ack grinned at their King, dressed in the enemy's uniform, each holding a sword, pike or halberd-to all intentions and purposes looking like a detail escorting a prisoner. As one, then men moved silently down towards the exit, sneaking through and knocking out any guards foolish enough to get in their way. Hoark turned to his King.

"You don't believe the news about the Prince, sire?" he asked in a low voice. Stoick shook his head immediately.

"Hiccup has spent his whole life wanting me to be proud of him," he said in a low voice as he absently punched a guard out. "Even when he was a scrawny runt of a boy with everyone in court demanding he be replaced as Heir, he worked furiously to meet my expectations. He learned his diplomacy, politics, tactics and sword craft better than anyone I have known, putting in insane hours when his peers would be out carousing and enjoying themselves. That boy is more stubborn and dedicated than anyone I know-I know his tutors gave him endless beatings to make him give up that wolf but he never budged. And also more kind: he used to spend most of his free time with those orphans he made me take into the castle and with the young guard cadets and servants. He would never betray me for his own advancement: he still thinks I'm disappointed in him, for Thor's sake! No matter how much I tell him, he still doubts himself. And Gobber wouldn't allow him to get a swollen head."

"So you suspect treason, sire?"

"Spitelout's man alerted the Meatheads and the pirates to my hiding place when we were on the run from that last battle," Stoick growled. "Who has benefited from my absence and Hiccup's removal?" Hoark cast his master a worried look.

"You do know that Olaf is his man as well?" he muttered. Stoick nodded.

"I am afraid so," he said as they made the docks. "But we need him to crew the ship when we leave here." They sneaked through the docks and made it to a small longboat-sturdy and seaworthy but hardly up to Berk standards. The King nodded and his men erupted from their hiding place, efficiently taking out the guards and crew of the boat. It was very late and the soft sounds of people being knocked unconscious didn't travel far over the foggy docks. The escapees leapt aboard the boat, checked there was water and some food already loaded, then cut the ropes and pushed away. Stoick was watching Olaf and was disappointed when the man sneaked to the stern and opened his mouth to shout back to the docks to alert any guards. He gave a choked noise as Stoick grabbed his throat.

"After all we've been through," Stoick said coldly as he lifted the man by the throat. Olaf was clawing at the steel grip. "You still serve my brother?" Olaf's eyes confirmed the accusation. Hoark turned to see his King speaking to the man and nodded to the other men. They continued their jobs, tacking the boat from the harbour.

"Sire?" Hoark said and then saw Olaf draw his knife. "Look out!" Stoick threw the man back across the ship as the traitor stabbed at him, but Hoark's knife buried in his throat before he could get his feet. The King nodded to his friend.

"Spitelout has just exceeded the bounds of brotherly love," he growled. "We'll dump that overboard once we've cleared the harbour-and then we set a course for Berk!"

oOo

There had been relief as much as celebration once the children were returned to their families and the attacks in the villages stopped. Hiccup had realised that Alvin couldn't keep razing villages for ever but he had damaged the young fugitive: there were still those who blamed Hiccup for their woes and some places were more hostile to the outlaw. Many people had been displaced and moved into camps in the forest and the outlaws had done their best to support them, helping them hunting and building shelters. A few young men had wanted to join the outlaws and the gang had welcomed them, though Hiccup and Gobber had been wary: both knew Alvin and Spitelout would really want to infiltrate the group. But they had acquired half a dozen new recruits before the could even try to slow gang's enthusiasm down.

Hiccup stood back as the gang celebrated their victory over a roasted boar. Despite his reservations, Gobber was laughing with Tuff and Fishlegs and the new recruits were having a drinking competition but there was no sign of Ruffnut. He glanced around: the burnt villages had upset the girl, no doubts about that but her twin was incapacitated and in his absence, Hiccup felt the responsibility to look out for the female twin.

He clambered out of the cove and headed to the cliffs, his senses on edge. He trod softly and then he saw her, sitting staring at the full moon across the sea. He quietly walked up and then sat cross-legged beside her. She looked up.

"Ruff? Are you okay?" he asked gently. She blinked and tore idly at the grass.

"Those people lost everything they had, didn't they?" she said in a rough voice. He nodded. "Why should he be allowed to get away with ruining people's lives on a whim?" He could sense that she wasn't just talking about the villages. Hiccup knew even Tuffnut didn't know what had happened to his sister when she had been captured: he stared at her and saw her face tighten in unhappiness.

"He won't be allowed to get away with it," he said softly. "I swear, Ruff." She turned to him and blinked. Her eyes were shining but she shed no tears.

"They treat us like animals, not people," she said quietly. "Like we are…nothing. We have no hopes, no dreams, no value…no dignity…" Hiccup was getting worried: he knew that Alvin had kept her in the castle for three days after Tuff had escaped and when she had finally followed him to freedom-with his help- she had been hard and angry.

"Ruff…" Hiccup said quietly, "you know you can talk to me…if you need to?" She stared at him in shock and then nodded.

"Yeah…but you're in even more trouble than I am!" she told him. He winced.

"Yeah, trouble is my middle name," he sighed.

"Thought it was Horrendous…or was it Hideous…or Herpes…?" Ruff grinned.

"I guess I'm lucky my Dad didn't ask you about middle names," he quipped. She nudged him.

"I'm a Nut," she reminded him. "We don't take anything seriously!" Hiccup nudged her back.

"I've known you and Tuff since I was twelve. You are the craziest pair of guard cadets they ever had in the castle. But you guys really helped me when I was the most useless Heir ever in the history of Berk…" Ruff managed a small smile at his tone.

"Hey, you were better than my weak and girly brother!" she said gruffly. "And you always treated us like real people. And when we heard you'd been convicted of treason, we knew it was a lie…even if we did miss the whole takeover thing because we were asleep…" Hiccup managed a small smile. That was so twins. "Hiccup-no matter what happens, we will always be there for you." She grabbed his arm and leaned against him. "And your being here helps. It reminds me not everyone in the castle of a total bastard…"

"Just the ones there now," he shrugged.

"Except your girl Astrid," Ruff said unexpectedly. "Hey, I like her! She was going to axe my brother to pieces-that makes her alright in my book!" Hiccup felt her rest against his shoulder. "Thanks, Hiccup. You've helped. Now take my advice-go get that girl." He closed his eyes and sighed:

"After we get the money Alvin is stealing from her home and her father."

oOo

The tax train slowly snaked down the line of hills from the northern half of Berk, the wide expanse of Scauldron Bay vanishing behind them as the mules pulled the cart carrying the chest of taxes up the bumpy road. Dagur, Eret and their men were clustered around the cart, rolling their eyes as Snotlout whined at the weather, the bumpy road and that he was hungry. Neither man would have chosen the spoilt hero as their companion but his father and Alvin had been insistent that he accompany them-both as experience in tax gathering and in the trip back through the forest.

The people of Scauldron Bay had been hostile to Dagur's tax collectors and the Berserker hadn't hesitated to continue with a couple of executions to encourage compliance. Lord Gunnar Hofferson had been grave, polite but extremely hostile at the heavy demands on his people and on his personal wealth. He was already angry at the removal of his daughter to Berkingham Castle to marry the arrogant Snotlout, who had sneeringly called him 'Dad' as his men had plundered the manor to pay the 'taxes'. But he had not made any move because his daughter was essentially a hostage and his people needed him to protect them.

The weather was cold and grey and the forest nestling ahead and the foot of the low slope ahead was gloomy and quiet. Dagur motioned to his men to draw their weapons and Eret raised his axe, his eyes narrowing. They were expecting an ambush and had brought twice as many men as usual, planning to outnumber and outfight the outlaws. Eret peered ahead, his dark eyes narrowing.

"It's too quiet," he growled. Drago didn't tolerate failure and he couldn't return to the Prince of Blood and expect to keep his head until he had a new Treaty and the person who had robbed his room was dead. Dagur nodded, his sword already in his hand.

"My brother is becoming a nuisance," he muttered. "One that we will need to be eliminated…" Snotlout trotted up and leaned forward in his saddle.

"You're not still worried about that scruffy, disgraced, pathetic…" Dagur turned and glared at him.

"He stole over a hundred slaves, four thousand kronor and a ship from under my nose!" he snarled.

"Your nose," Snotlout sneered. "He wouldn't fool me. He's my cousin, after all. He's a scrawny weakling with a stammer and an ability to fall over his feet…" Eret and Dagur shared a look: the young Lord had managed to forget that they were comprehensively outmanoeuvred by him on their hunting trip.

"Then lead by all means, Lord Snotlout," Eret invited him sarcastically. Snotlout gave a grin, raised an arm and rode ahead.

"Come on!" he announced. "These taxes won't deliver themselves to my father…"

oOo

"Why do we always have to be the decoys?" Tuffnut moaned, glaring at Hiccup.

"Yeah-you always pick on us!" Ruff added, though her expression was amused at her brother's dismay. The outlaw gave him a grin.

"Tuff, I can honestly say there's no one as distracting as you are!" he admitted.

"Really? Honest, Hicc-I never knew you cared…" Tuff shot back. Then he frowned suspiciously. "It's the dress, isn't it…"

"Oh gods," Hiccup groaned, face-palming. "Ruff-do you want to hit him? I give you full permission!"

"I don't need permission to beat up my brother…but thanks anyway…can I save it for later?"

"Just go out there and distract them!" Hiccup sighed as Fishlegs crouched down by him.

"Are you sure this will work?" he asked.

"Sure…is a strong word," Hiccup admitted. "It's more like a hunch…" He peered at the lookout. "Any sign?" The man nodded.

"Yes, sir!" the man called respectfully. Hiccup winced. "The train is just coming down the main track into the forest."

"Who's leading? Dagur?"

"Lord Snotlout!" the cry came. Hiccup gave a small smile.

"Thank you, Thor!" he grinned. "Tuff! Get in there!" Reluctantly, Tuff scrambled out, playing an old woman wrapped in shawl, scarf and very grubby dress. Ruff-dressed as a herder-was dragging along two very irritable yaks. Tuff was affecting a very unconvincing limp-mainly because he was trying to limp on both legs-while Ruff was arguing with the yaks as she wrestled them along.

'C'mon Barf…hurry up, Belch…" she groaned as the yaks resisted. "Whose idea was it to call them Barf and Belch anyway?"

"Yours," Tuffnut grumbled, tripping over his skirts.

"Oh. Really?"

"Why don't women wear skivvies? These petticoats are a problem!"

"Don't ask me! You're more weak and girly than I am!"

"But you're my sister!"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"BARF! That's the opposite of barfing. Eurgh!"

"They certainly are distracting," Fishlegs murmured into Hiccup's ear as they watched from within the forest. "Though I think the yaks are more convincing than they are."

"As long as Dagur and Eret see them, they've done their job…" Hiccup muttered back.

"No chance of missing them," Fishlegs added. "Um-they've started fighting!" Hiccup peeked out and sighed. Though he did see-as he had hoped-Snotlout, Dagur and Eret all galloping down the slope with the cart speeding down behind them and the men running to keep up. But the twins looked up and tried to move aside…and at that time, the yaks decided that they had had enough and made a break for it. The approaching riders gaped as two huge and annoyed yaks accelerated up straight at the cart. The riders scattered, the mules screamed and veered away-straight into the trees, the sudden change of direction ejecting the driver into a clump of gorse. The guards gaped as their taxes vanished and then belatedly ran after them.

"Um…was this the plan, sis?" Tuff asked, watching the chaos.

"No-but hey, we distracted them!" she grinned and then they ran off after their yaks. Hiccup rolled his eyes.

"Don't. Even. Ask," he said through gritted teeth to Fishlegs. "After them! And Fishlegs-bring the nets!" They could hear the cart crashing through the undergrowth and the shouts of the riders but Hiccup guessed they would be struggling just as much as the outlaws were through the uneven and mossy forest floor. The problem was that the cart was likely to get stuck or tip over and spill the taxes. He peered at his best friend. "Toothless-go after those horses!" he commanded and the wolf gave a little yip-then galloped off. Hiccup sprinted off after him and knew that his carefully plotted plan was not going to be of any use because it had been Nutted. He hurdled a gulley, ducked through some trees-and found himself face to face with one of the yaks.

He gaped and paused, then a small grin crossed his face. "What to do?" he murmured. "C'mon, c'mon-think like Ruff and Tuff. I can't believe I just said that!" And he leapt up onto the yak's back, grabbing the horns and directing the angry bovine directly after the horses. The yak gave a bellow and took off-fortunately in the direction of the wolf howls and the sounds of shouts. Hiccup hung on for dear life as he heard the rest of the outlaws crashing after him-and glimpsed Ruff and Tuff on the other yak.

"Hey, Hicc-you should be an honorary Nut!" Tuff shouted as they galloped by-straight through the brambles at the sounds of shouts. The outlaw slid from the enraged yak as the crash sounded and he knew the cart had given up. He sprang over the shallow earth bank and nodded to the panting outlaws who had struggled after him.

"Nets!" he shouted and they tossed the nets over the scattered soldiers, wrapping them around the trees and trapping the men amid the brambles and saplings. He could hear Toothless barking and growing-and then a yelp. His head snapped round and his hands snatched at his bow and an arrow and he leapt forward, seeing Dagur slash again at the growling Toothless. Unthinking, he drew and fired an arrow. Dagur shouted and just ducked, though the arrow grazed his arm. He yelped as Toothless leapt and savaged him furiously. Eret snarled and tried to turn his horse to attack the outlaw but he was knocked off his horse by a rampaging yak, topped by Ruff and Tuff. Snotlout tried to ride out the way but he was also mowed down by the yak and ended up in a stream, cursing and soaked to his skivvies. Hiccup whistled through his teeth and this time, Toothless nipped handily at the dancing hooves of Dagur's horse and it threw him hard. Hiccup nocked another arrow and levelled it at the Berserker.

"This one is aimed to kill," he growled. Dagur lay still and stared at the outlaw.

"You know you can't keep doing this," he sneered. Hiccup ghosted a small smile.

"I only need to until my father returns!" he reminded them. Dagur laughed scornfully.

"Do you think he'll ever return?" he sneered. "He's a hostage and I doubt his brother will be in any hurry to gather a ransom. Stoick will never set foot on Berk again!" Hiccup's face tightened and he took a deep breath.

"Enjoy telling Alvin you lost the taxes!" he breathed, unleashing the arrow. Dagur ducked as it landed by his head and when he looked up, Hiccup had vanished. The young outlaw heard the man unsuccessfully trying to get out of the mud and Snotlout whining that he was sinking as he scrambled down the slope to the gulley where the cart had overturned. His men had lifted the chests of taxes and were using the two mules to carry them away from the scattered train. Tuff raced up, grinning, still in his dress.

"Hey, Hicc-how'd it go?" he asked eagerly. Ruff trotted up, dragging one of the yaks still after her.

"Please lose the yak!" Hiccup groaned.

"No way!" Ruff protested. "He's one of us now!"

"Oh gods," Hiccup groaned. "FINE! You can care for him, though," He nodded and grabbed one of the mules. "Fish-distribute the taxes to the peasants in the north." He stared at the chest. "I'll take this to Lord Hofferson. The King is being held for ransom and I am certain Spitelout has no intention of sending any money to rescue my father. I will ask Lord Hofferson to guard it. He is probably the only Lord left we can trust." Fishlegs stared at him.

"Wouldn't it be safer with us?" he asked. Hiccup sighed and rubbed against the mule's nose, feeling Toothless nuzzle his leg.

"Probably," he said. "But I won't let them say I am stealing this money for my own benefit. It has to be distributed away from us." He sighed. "I can't get word to my father. If he's heard what Spitelout has claimed…he may believe I betrayed him…" He closed his eyes for a second then forced himself to pull himself together. "Get them back to the cove, Fish. And get that money distributed. I'll be back later!" And he headed into the northern reaches of the forest, dragging the heavily laden mule behind him.

oOo

Lord Hofferson stared into the fire in his main hall. The evenings were when he felt it most: the house felt much emptier now that Astrid was at court, the knowledge of her absence more troubling than the absence of her shouting or mess. His wife was long dead and his small son had died shortly after birth. His brother, "Fearless' Finn, was also gone, taken by the pirates three years midsummer. Astrid was the last of the line. He looked around: if she was married to Snotlout, Scauldron Bay would revert to the crown and he feared for his peasants.

His cold blue gaze snapped up as Willem, his trusted manservant, entered the hall and bowed. Hofferson rose, his tall form straight and greying blonde hair still bright in the firelight. "My Lord-a peasant has come to see you. He…he has a message from the Crown." Hofferson took off and ran, his heart filled with worry for Astrid. He knew his daughter was brave and capable but she was also hot-tempered and rash and he feared she was in danger. But as he erupted into the small yard behind the main house, he saw a skinny, lanky shape in battered leather armour standing by a heavily laden mule and his eyes narrowed at the identity of the messenger.

"Hiccup!" he snapped. "You endanger us all by coming here." The outlaw sighed, his green eyes hurt.

"I'm happy to see you too, my Lord," he said lightly.

"You are a declared traitor!" Hofferson snapped.

"By a usurper!"

"Who has my daughter hostage!" the Lord spat at him.

"She is safe, my Lord," the outlaw assured him. "If she is in any peril, I will rescue her myself! Though recently, she's been more likely to rescue me…" Hofferson folded his arms.

"Begone, boy-there's no sanctuary for you here!" he told Hiccup harshly. The young man swallowed once and nodded.

"Of course I understand, my Lord," he said quietly. "But I return the taxes stolen from you. I ask one boon. Keep them in trust-because the King is held hostage against a ransom Spitelout will never hand over. You are the only Lord I can trust with this money." He lifted his chin. "If you choose to hand the coin back to your people, then I have to accept your judgement. But Spitelout will hand the island over to Drago Bludvist and your lands will be the first to go. I have Treaties between Spitelout and Drago in my possession that spell out the deal. Your daughter has seen them." He stepped back from the mule. "I do not seek the throne, my Lord. My father is a hundred times the king I would ever be. I only seek to protect his land until he returns."

Hofferson stared at the young man, seeing the determination in the angular face and the weariness in the skinny shape. He grasped the mule's reins. "Take care of my daughter," he said gruffly. Hiccup backed away into the dark.

"For what it's worth, sir-you have my word," he said as he backed away.

The man lurking in the shadows gave a thin smile at the meeting between the Lord and the outlaw and immediately began to compose the message he would send to his master-the Sherriff…


	9. An Afternoon Out

"You are sure?" Alvin asked the spy. The man nodded, certainly.

"The traitor, Hiccup Haddock, was seen consorting with Lord Hofferson following the theft of the taxes," he reported. "He handed over a chest. I believe it contained stolen tax revenue. And I felt it was my duty as a loyal citizen…"

"Can it!" Alvin snarled. "You report because I pay yer well!" The man cringed at the fierce tone as the Sheriff paced back and forth. Then the man gave a nasty yellow grin. "It's perfect!" he announced gruffly. "Now we 'ave a perfect excuse ter attack that treacherous Lord 'Offerson and dispose of 'is feisty girl!"

"We have other problems," Dagur announced, entering the room lazily, a small green Terrible Terror in his grasp. The creature whimpered as the Berserker maintained a cruelly tight grip. Alvin glared.

"What?" he scowled. Dagur waved a small roll of parchment that the dragon had brought. Dagur gave his manic laugh.

"Things are about to get a lot more fun, Al!" he said. "Stoick's escaped!"

oOo

Astrid had been practising what Hiccup had suggested and was paying far more attention to those round her. That wasn't always the most enjoyable experience, what with Snotlout's extremely questionable personal habits, Alvin's apparent aversion to soap and Dagur's penchant for extreme violence but she discreetly watched them all. But her attentions were not just reserved for the main players but all the others within the castle, from the drudge who sneaked in to scrape the ashes from the fire in her room all the way up to the elegant and unobtrusive Lady Heather.

Undaunted, she headed for the stable to check with Stormfly and go for a ride. She hated training in the castle because she was always watched…always judged. There were always disapproving eyes, reminding her that a Lady does not use an axe or ride like a warrior or threaten her prospective suitor. She huffed, shifted the axe across her back and walked confidently into the stable.

The lad glanced up, grey eyes recognising her. He dipped his scruffy head, overlong jet hair half-concealing the features of an early-mid teen. He gave a small respectful bow then turned back and continued brushing her coat. Astrid was please to note that she was looking in excellent condition. She glanced at the boy and watched him stare carefully at the floor, trying not to meet her eye or appear disrespectful.

"I've seen you around the castle," she commented, lifting her axe and inspecting the blade. "But you usually hang around the Great Hall or the offices of the Sheriff. Why are you in the stable now unless you're hiding-or watching me?" Her eyes narrowed. "And you're Heather's little brother, aren't you? Gustav?"

Gustav's eyes widened in shock and he bowed his head. "Um, yes, Lady Astrid," he mumbled. "But-but I'm n-not watching you. That-that would be treason…" Astrid stared at him and saw the faint longing in his eyes as he stroked the spirited mare. Then she gently took the brush from his hand.

He stared up and started. He knew he could be cheeky to his sister and treat Hiccup almost like the brother he never had because they cared for him. But around the more powerful people in the castle, the boy was servile and respectful. He knew he was worth nothing and not many people liked him-or his sister. And he knew Hiccup had caught Hel for bringing them into the castle and insisting they were given a home. Gustav stared at the straw-strewn floor and recalled the day the young Prince had been caught, hiding the two orphans in the castle, the way they had been restrained and the fourteen year old boy had been marched in front of his father. The way Hiccup had bravely stood up for them against his father, had pleaded for their lives and a place in the castle-and had accepted a terrible whipping for his transgression. Gustav winced. The boy's strangled screams had been pitiful, but the brutalised boy had still staggered to his feet and faced his father with courage and demanded his friends' safety. Gustav knew he could never match Hiccup in bravery but he could protect what Hiccup held dear: Berk…and Astrid.

Astrid rapidly flung the saddle over Stormfly's back. Her strong hands deftly fastened the girth and adjusted the saddle slightly Then she smiled at the boy. "Get on her," Astrid invited, inclining her head to the mare. Gustav looked up, hardly daring to breathe but the young Lady nodded and took the horse's head, as the boy scrambled up onto her back. His hand hesitantly patted the silky neck and a slow smile crossed his grimy features.

"Thank you," the boy said and Astrid opened her mouth to speak when a hand grabbed the boy's bony ankle and hauled him from the horse.

"What do you think you're doing?" Captain Vorg of the Berserkers snarled and loomed over the boy, He lifted his sword, still sheathed, to beat the lad and then Astrid stepped out from behind the mare.

"What I commanded him to do!" she said coldly. "I needed him to sit on my horse so I could check her gait as I walked her. Last time I rode her I felt it was a little off. Gustav is my young groom and I would be grateful if you would stop impeding me!" Her eyes glittered and Vorg stepped back from the boy, slamming a kick into his side before the lad could protest before turning away and stamping from the stables. The boy started up, breathing hard.

"Thank you, Lady Astrid," he murmured, his grey eyes twinkling in gratitude. Achingly, he got up: he was used to hard knocks. He walked to her and took the bridle, looking momentarily serious. Then the boy leaned close. "I know that Sheriff Alvin and Lord Dagur are planning to attack your father at Scauldron Bay. They have evidence from a spy that Hiccup is stowing his loot there, implicating your father as a traitor." Then he froze as an axe bit into his throat.

"My father is not a traitor," Astrid ground out in a tone that would freeze lava. Gustav gulped.

"Their words, Lady Astrid!" he whispered urgently. She stared at him, then fumbled in her belt and pressed something cold and round into his hand. He held Stormfly still as she swung into the saddle and then she nodded to him.

"I'll expect you when I come back, Gustav!" she called and trotted out of the stables. Only then did the boy open his hand-to see a silver half-kronor. He gaped: it was rich reward for such slim intelligence. Then he closed his fist and made to find his sister: she would know what to do with the much wealth. But he pressed himself back into the stall as Snotlout raced by, shoving his own groom away from his new horse and flipping himself into the saddle.

"ASTRID! Princess? Wait Up! I'm coming!" And he galloped after her. Gustav ducked back into the stall and hid his smirk. He was sure that wherever Astrid was heading in such a hurry, Snotlout was definitely not welcome.

oOo

She had accelerated up the hill and directed her horse straight into Raven's Point Forest, galloping hard up the path and direct towards the cove. Her eyes were glittering with her rage at Hiccup for his reckless and selfish actions. She would teach him to endanger her home and her father…

So she didn't noticed as a pair of hands reached down and dragged her unceremoniously from the saddle.

"Afternoon, Milady!" Hiccup said in her ear, his hand tight over her mouth and arm firm around her as he pulled her into the canopy. "Tuff?"

"Yeah-you get the girl and I get to be the girl!" he protested as he leapt from the next tree and landed on Stormfly, kicking the mare to a canter as the sounds of hooves closed. Astrid struggled but Hiccup held her even tighter as Snotlout galloped up, saw the blond shape on the horse and waved.

"Wait, Princess-it's your Snottykins!" he shouted and accelerated after the receding Stormfly. Astrid stiffened.

"mflghst!" she exclaimed against Hiccup's hand. He craned his neck and removed his hand.

"What?" he asked.

"Really? He can't tell the difference between me and…him?" she snapped. Hiccup made sure she was secure on the branch before releasing her and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"What can I say? Not the sharpest sword in the armoury!" he shrugged.

"And my weedy brother does look like a girl from the back!" Ruff added from the next branch. Hiccup sighed.

"Astrid-Ruffnut. One of my most trusted-and craziest-men…erm…women…no, that really isn't what I meant…erm…gang!" He blushed slightly. "Definitely gang," he added. Astrid allowed herself to smirk. Surprisingly, this was the Hiccup she remembered from her childhood-the stumbling, blushing, stammering runt-not the confident, cocky and somewhat reckless young outlaw he had become.

"Are you two…?" Astrid asked, allowing herself to smile. Hiccup's cheeks scorched!

"Eep….I mean, no…" he began, casting Ruff an irritated look. The female twin was almost falling out of the tree laughing.

"Nah-he's not boyfriend material for me!" Ruff admitted, wiping her eyes. "Too scrawny. I prefer something to get my hands on! Hmm…blond, solid, almost as clever as Mr Blushing here and…"

"…named Fishlegs," Hiccup realised and cast her a thoughtful look through his own embarrassment. He hadn't realised his friend carried a torch for the shy former clerk. To be honest, there was no way he could have predicted this…but then who could? All Hiccup knew about matters of the heart were that they couldn't be forced, they tended to involve really painful amounts of embarrassment and that the girl he loved was currently smirking a few feet from him and probably wouldn't have touched him even if he was still the Prince. Ruff inspected the ground.

"Yeah…" she sighed then brightened up. "Can we go and rob the would-be Princeling, boss? Can we? Can we? Can we?"

"What do you say, Milady?" Hiccup asked her with a small smile. Astrid folded her arms.

"Why did you kidnap me?" she demanded. Hiccup sighed.

"Oh, maybe to stop you leading Snotlout directly to our base?" he suggested sarcastically. "Look, I know my cousin is as dull as a sword used to chop down a tree but even he can follow a straight line!" It was Astrid's turn to blush and she face-palmed.

"Sorry," she murmured, then recalled why she had been in such a hurry. "But we do need to talk!" He heard the steel in her tone and nodded.

"When we're back at base," he promised her gently. "Meanwhile, shall we participate in my favourite pastime?"

"Robbing Snotlout is your favourite pastime?" she asked him incredulously. He gave a nonchalant shrug.

"What can I say? Diary's been a bit empty recently…what with my being declared a traitor!" There was a sudden bite of bitterness in his voice with the last three words and he leapt from the branch, landing agilely and stalking away. Ruff sighed.

"Bravo, Lady Astrid," she said quietly. "Look, he hides it really well but it's hit him badly because he feels he's completely failed the King. He's had everything he had and worked for stolen from him and he feels ridiculous levels of responsibility for it all. He barely sleeps and risks himself all the time when he doesn't need to. He's a good guy and he's helped and saved every one of us in the gang. But the only times when he looks happy is when he's with Toothless-and when he sees you. I think he would do anything for you-so please try not to abuse that. Or I will have to come and chop you up with your own axe!" Astrid stared at the girl in shock. Ruff grinned. "And if you tell anyone about this, no one will ever believe you!" she added and leapt down after Hiccup. Astrid blinked and then followed her.

The outlaw met them with a lopsided smile. "Sorry," he offered. "Guess I'm still a bit touchy about Spitelout stealing my Dad's throne." Astrid offered a slight smile.

"Actually, I wanna see Snotlout robbed as well," she told him in a playful voice. "You have no idea how tedious he is when he's trying to court you!" Hiccup shuddered.

"Urgh, no," he said and pulled a face. Behind him, Ruff made vomiting noises. "And I could've done without that mental image. Thanks Astrid!"

"You're welcome!" she grinned at his sarcastic rejoinder. Then he turned and grasped her shoulder gently.

"But you need to keep out of sight, Astrid!" he told her sternly. "You cannot be associated with me. It would put your family and lands in danger!" The words rekindled the anger in her breast and she nodded curtly, though her lips thinned and his brow furrowed at the sudden anger in her eyes. "I know you don't like it," he told her, misinterpreting her expression, "but you have to see sense!" She nodded once, pulling away and not trusting herself to speak. Then he turned and led them through the undergrowth. He had advised Tuff which way to take Snotlout but whether the twin would do as asked was a very different matter. They found the broad oak the gang had used before and scrambled into the branches then waited.

Astrid found herself inspecting the Outlaw with care. Hiccup was perched on his haunches, his hands supporting his weight as he leaned forward, green eyes inspecting the road. His feathery auburn hair was a little longer than usual and his face was tense. Then his lips lifted as he caught the edge of the echoes of approaching hooves. Then Tuff galloped by, his face frantic.

"He's gaining!" he panted as he drew to a halt. "And he'll realise I'm not her!" Hiccup motioned and Tuff leapt from the saddle, burrowing into a huge clump of bracken. Then Snotlout cantered up and wheeled to a halt by the panting Stormfly, his eyes searching for Astrid.

"Oh, Princess-you know you can't hide from me!" he called in what he thought was a seductive voice. Hiccup sat on the branch, his legs dangling, then grinned at Astrid and rolled backwards, landing agilely by Snotlout's bridle and grabbing it firmly.

"Nor would I want to," Hiccup replied smoothly. "Afternoon, Snot. Glad to see you getting some healthy exercise!" The bulky jet-haired young man glared at his cousin and fumbled for his axe.

"YOU!"

"Your powers of recognition are improving," Hiccup shot back and then shook his head, his forest green gaze flicking up to show Ruff covering the rider with her bow. "Now put the weapon down, Snot. I don't want to hurt you."

"The feeling's not mutual!" Snotlout growled through his teeth. Hiccup sighed.

"I know we had our differences as children," he began. Like beating me up all the time, he added silently. "But to steal the throne and try to have me murdered in my bed? That's low, Snot!"

"You know what's low?" Snotlout sneered. "Having some wet-behind-the-ears Prince rule in the King's absence with his Council rather than getting the brother in?"

"Spitelout has as much experience of ruling as I have-but I had the same Advisers that help my father rule all the time!" Hiccup snapped back, his eyes glittering. "Your father has been pampered all his life, done nothing for himself his entire life…except beget you. And that was only because no one else could!"

"And yet I am twice the Heir you were!" Snotlout sneered.

"Certainly in size," Hiccup admitted, "though you're way behind in training, intelligence, strategy…"

"Our strategy had you at the block!" Snotlout snarled. Hiccup stiffened and was silent for a moment. He breathed hard for a minute and blinked twice, visibly forcing himself to look back at his cousin.

"Yes," he said quietly. "Something I hope you never have to experience!" Snotlout leaned forward, his expression nasty.

"Did poor widdle Hiccup feel all scared and fwightened as he was about to have his head chopped off?" he taunted. Hiccup grimaced and jerked on the bridle.

"Off!" he snapped and Snotlout swung from the saddle. "Now strip!" Snotlout opened his mouth to protest but Hiccup had drawn his sword and the older boy reluctantly began to remove his clothes. Hiccup's sword flipped up his bulging purse and tossed it up into the tree to the unseen Astrid but he never took his eyes off Snotlout as the young man stripped down to his skivvies. "And the boots!" Hiccup insisted. Snotlout glared at him with hatred.

"I'm gonna watch you scream for this!" he promised. Hiccup gave a thin smile.

"Yay! Full house!" he said sarcastically. "It's only taken eight months to get all of you swearing bloody vengeance on me!" He took a step forward, the tip of his sword hovering over Snotlout's heart and the bulky boy froze. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now, Snot, and remove my rival for the throne?" Snotlout swallowed, his face pale at the low, angry tone.

"Because you're not a murderer," he said quietly. "You're not a traitor. You're too weak!" The last word was spat with venom and Hiccup flicked the boy's stubbly chin up and dug the tip of his sword delicately into the flesh.

"No, it would be easy and weak to murder an unarmed opponent in his underclothes," he said coldly. "Just as it was weak to send crossbowmen to my bedroom to bury four bolts in my heart while I slept!" He nicked the skin under Snotlout's chin. "But I don't kill the helpless, the weak and the unarmed. I leave those crimes to you!" He jabbed his sword at the boy's naked chest. "Now-GO!" And he swatted the boy's backside as he walked away to hurry him on. Tuff scrambled out of his hiding place as he vanished down the hill, limping and shouting threats and an impressive selection of curse-words.

"Is he gone?" he asked and Hiccup nodded, poking at Snotlout' clothes, weapons and boots.

"Get these to Gobber and make sure the clothes and weapons go to those who need them. Distribute the money and stable the horse with the others," he said calmly. Ruff leapt from the tree and grinned.

"Bags the horse!" she called.

"Hey-I saw it first!" Tuff protested.

"You got to ride Lady Astrid's!"

"So it's still my turn!"

"Look-this thing could carry Snotlout so it can definitely carry both of us!" Ruff offered and her twin grinned, bundled up the possessions and leapt aboard. "You okay, boss?" she asked. Hiccup sheathed his sword and nodded. He gestured to Astrid and she tossed the purse to the twins.

"See you back at camp!" he called and then offered her his hand-but she jumped and landed agilely on her horse. He managed a smirk. "Milady!" he commented.

"The next words that leave your mouth should be complimentary, Mister Outlaw, or I'll have to start chopping bits off you!" she told him. He smirked and leapt up behind her.

"Wouldn't dare," he sighed as she kicked the horse to a gallop and took them back to the cove. Astrid felt him warm behind her, felt his lean shape move synchronously with her, his grip on her waist just enough to stabilise himself against her and far too comforting for her liking. She knew he was an excellent horseman-they had competed hard as children and she knew he had put in hundreds of extra hours to make sure his father wasn't disappointed-so she knew he was safe if she accelerated. She hit a fast gallop and felt him tense, his breathing accelerating. She loved the freedom of riding and having him close was an added bonus. The ride to the cove was all too short and she felt herself feel disappointed as he slid from the saddle and offered her his hand. She grasped it and slid down opposite him.

"Now what was on your mind, Astrid?" he asked mildly.

She punched him hard in the face.

He went down with a crash, completely taken by surprise and crying out in shock. He rolled away, pressing the heel of his hand to his split lip and cursing.

"Thor and Odin! OW! What the Helheim was that for?" he exclaimed and scrambled up.

She punched him again and he went down again.

"ASTRID!" he protested, still pressing against his bleeding lip and nose. He stared up at her and read absolute fury in her eyes. He swallowed and paused. "If I get up again, will you just punch me?" he asked. She nodded angrily, her fists balled. "I think I'll just stay down," he said thickly. She advanced on him as she heard the sounds of steps closing on her. Hiccup glanced up, shocked and in pain but she saw him raise his hand and motion his gang to stay back. He was breathing heavily. "Please just tell me why?" he pleaded. She continue breathing heavily and glaring at them.

"You bastard. You've put my father and Scauldron Bay in danger!" she snarled. "Alvin knows!" Hiccup groaned and collapsed back onto the ground. staring up at the sky.

"Can you give us a moment?" he asked the gang. Gobber nodded to Fishlegs and the three men who had raced up in response to his cry and they withdrew. Astrid was still breathing heavily and glaring at him. "If you want to hit me again, you can," he sighed and just lay there. She loomed over him, her balled fist drawn back and he closed his ashamed green eyes-and then he felt her land on her knees by him. Warily, he opened his eyes-in time to see her fist fly into his shoulder. He yelped loudly and winced.

"Why did you endanger him?" she demanded.

"Because he's about the only one I can trust," he admitted with a sigh, rubbing the shoulder. It would be a big bruise if he wasn't mistaken.

"But…"

"I left him half the northern taxes we heisted," he admitted slowly. "And I told him that he could redistribute them to his people or keep them in trust for the ransom that will be demanded for my father. Because I known sure as Hel that Spitelout won't lift a finger to get my Dad back. And the rumours I have heard from the sailors in the port are that he's being held in Meathead lands. But there is no talk of a ransom, no announcement, no appeal to the people to save their King. Spitelout wants him to rot." He sighed. "I should've kept the loot here but we never keep anything here. We give it all back. And I didn't want Spitelout and Alvin claiming I was lining my own pockets."

"They already claim that!" she reminded him, tearing absently at the grass. He warily sat up, gently touching his bloody lip.

"If my Dad hears, he'll think I've betrayed him," he sighed.

"You don't think your own father will know his own son well enough to understand you would never betray him?" she asked him. He sighed again.

"He's Stoick the Vast. I'm a fishbone. He never shows me he's satisfied," he told her heavily. He scuffed the heel of his boot along the ground awkwardly. "And I've disappointed him before…been disobedient…" His shoulders slumped.

"Like Toothless?" she smirked. Hiccup nodded.

"Yeah-no one wanted him," he sighed. There was a growl and the wolf, which Astrid had watched run up to his beloved but distracted owner, flung himself onto the young outlaw. His face creased into a smile and he was pushed to the ground again, a long tongue giving him a thorough licking. "Except me, bud!" he assured the wolf, laughing and pushing him off. The wolf deliberately collapsed on him and he groaned. "Yeah, you win…stupid wolf…" he grumbled playfully and reluctantly scrambled up, pushing the heavy body aside. Astrid grabbed him and he flinched but she pressed her lips to his battered face and his green eyes popped wide for a moment before closing as he deepened the kiss, his hand cupping her head and keeping her close. When she broke away, she was still breathing hard but for very different reasons and her heart was pounding in her chest.

"Um…sorry," she apologised quietly and he nuzzled closer to her.

"You're forgiven Milady, because I did break my word," he told her forgivingly. "I promised to protect your father but instead…"

"You did what needed to be done," she admitted and kissed him again. This one was much longer and more heated, hands digging in each others hair and lips urgently exploring the other's mouth. They only broke apart when Toothless yipped and the sounds of panting and running feet broke through their own private world. Hiccup regained his breath and sighed, nuzzling against Astrid's face once more and then finally looking up to meet Gustav's panicked expression. Immediately, his calm shattered.

"What is it?" he asked, rolling to his knees, his hand still twined with Astrid's. Gustav leaned forward, panting, his eyes flicking over the two and looking almost betrayed. Then he took a gasp and nodded.

"Alvin and the Northern Envoy, Eret Eretson, are leading men into the forest to kill whoever they can find!" he panted. Hiccup paled and stared at Astrid.

"There are hundreds of displaced villagers hiding in the forest," he murmured. "They'll be massacred…"

"That's not the worst!" Gustav gulped. "Dagur is leading his Berserkers north to Scauldron Bay…to raze it to the ground and execute the traitor, Lord Hofferson!"


	10. Raiders of Raven Point

"Dagur is leading his Berserkers north to Scauldron Bay…to raze it to the ground and execute the traitor, Lord Hofferson!"

Hiccup stared at the panting Gustav and heard Astrid gasp. He took a slow breath to steady his own nerves and gather his thoughts, then grasped Astrid's hand.

"Don't worry," he said determinedly to Astrid. "I won't let that happen!" Then he started down the path to the cove, dragging her with him. "Toothless-gather the troops!" he commanded and the wolf ran ahead, growling furiously. She felt as if her legs weren't her own, her mind whirling in shock and anger and she stumbled. Immediately, Hiccup turned and swept her into his arms, carrying her swiftly down the steep path, leaping like a goat and ducking through the crevice with grace and assuredness. He burst into the cove as the wolf began growling. Gustav panted down after them and the whole gang turned as Hiccup trotted up, pausing and staring into Astrid's face.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently, leaning close to her. His green eyes were almost luminous. She nodded.

"I'm fine," she said tightly and he instantly put her down, his hands lingering a second longer on her arms as she pulled away.

"What is it, laddie?" Gobber asked, limping forward. Hiccup sighed.

"Trouble," he admitted and gestured to Gustav. The lad repeated his news and silence fell over the group. Fishlegs gaped and his blue eyes widened.

"Oh Thor, oh Thor, oh Thor-this is not good!" he whimpered. Gobber scowled then looked back at Hiccup. The young outlaw was pale but his face was determined and he swallowed once.

"Yer got a plan, laddie?" he asked the former Prince and Hiccup nodded.

"We have to focus on saving the displaced villagers and getting them away from Alvin's forces," he said determinedly. "We can't let unarmed, innocent people-who have already lost their homes and almost everything they possess-be murdered by armed soldiers!" He heard Astrid gasp at his side and he saw her stiffen. He turned to meet the anger and betrayal in her eyes.

"You lied!" she spat, her hand reaching for her axe. He caught her wrist and held it still with difficulty.

"I didn't," he told her gently. "We will focus on getting the villagers away…but I will ride to Scauldron Bay and warn your father." Her eyes searched his face and saw his promise. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Er, laddie-we will need yer as well!" Gobber told him gruffly. "Yer our leader and ye can't just ride off on a whim..." Hiccup stiffened.

"I have a plan," he said quietly, though his voice was tighter than he intended. "We have to get the villagers away. Just trying to fight them is suicide..."

"Who's committing suicide?" Tuff asked cheerfully, walking in from the steep passage holding the bundle of Snotlout's clothes. "Can I join in?" Hiccup rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"Just for once..." he groaned. "Gobber-the gang can create the diversions and get them away but you know I am the only option to go north and help Lord Hofferson." Gobber cast a glance at Astrid and looked uncomfortable.

"But laddie-why?" he asked bluntly. "The man never offered ye any help or sanctuary. In fact, he chased ye away when ye took him the gold." He walked forward and grabbed Hiccup's arm, dragging him away from Astrid. "I know yer sweet on the girl, laddie, but ye can't throw yer life away in a foolish gesture!" Hiccup froze.

"It's not a gesture," he growled. "Lord Hofferson is the only major Lord still loyal to my father. He is next in the line of succession after the Jorgensons and Scauldron Bay was the perfect place to hide the ransom and the ship. And get my Dad back." He shook Gobber off. "Much as I'd love to have the freedom to run off like a lovesick fool, I can't. If I don't try to help our last powerful ally, I am complicit in their actions." And he turned and stalked away, moving fast and brusquely to the small lake in the centre of the cove. The others watched him, open-mouthed. No one had ever seen him argue with Gobber. Astrid stared after him in shock and felt the weight of eyes on her. She look up, irritable.

"What?" she asked. Fishlegs looked nervous.

"Er...you're his girlfriend," he pointed out. "Aren't you supposed to go and calm him down?" She scowled.

"I am NOT his girlfriend!" she snarled.

"So you're really dating Snotface?" Ruff asked in a disgusted voice.

"NO!" she shouted. "I'm not dating anyone!" There was a collective sigh of relief.

"Thank Thor!" Fishlegs exclaimed. "Because he only looks happy when he's seen you. Not that we notice these things...oh, Thor...please don't scowl at me like that..." Astrid's brows dipped. Ruff walked to her side and leaned close to her.

"For what it's worth, I think his reasoning is okay," she said to the surprised Astrid. "He's a good tactician. But we've never seen him cross words with Gobber and he does love him like a father. I think you should have a word with him at least."

Astrid sighed then walked slowly towards the figure at the far side of the lake, sat on his haunches with an arm around the wolf. Hiccup had his head down and was looking miserable. She dropped to her knees by him and stared back across the little lake at the gang. Ruff looked like she was trying to twist Tuff's head off.

"What did she say to you?" he asked softly.

"To talk to you." she admitted.

"They think I'm doing this for you," he sighed.

"Um, Ruff thought you made a point...though the others were just relieved to hear I'm not dating Snotlout!" she said self-consciously. His eyes flicked briefly.

"I am doing it for you," he confessed. "Though it does make sense. My Dad would expect me to go his aid." She took his free hand and laced her fingers with his. She felt them curl around hers, his grasp strong and warm.

"Gobber is your mentor and trainer, isn't he?" He nodded silently. "Go back and talk with him. This will be dangerous and you can't leave it like this." He shook his head.

"He doesn't trust me," he sighed. "I saw it in his eyes, just like in Dad's: disappointment. He was ashamed of what I was doing." He closed his eyes. Astrid leaned closer.

"Then save the villagers," she said quietly. "My father is a warrior. He will defend his home. You can stay in the forest rather than riding north…"

"Maybe I can do both..." he murmured, frowning. "Astrid..."

"I want you to take care!" she said urgently, her grip tightening on his. "Look, mister outlaw, I know I punched you just now..."

"Um, yeah, won't forget that in a hurry..."

"But I don't want anything to happen to you especially on my account," she told him. His mouth lifted in a slight smile, though he appeared downcast still. He pulled her close, then lifted her chin with his fingers and pressed his lips softly against hers.

"Astrid, if anything happens, it won't be your fault," he told her gently. Then he gave her his trademark smirk and rose to his feet. He offered her a hand. "Seriously-I have a plan."

"Is it stupid?" she asked him dryly as she was pulled to her feet.

"Yep. And crazy as well," he said cheerfully. "That's why it'll work!" She kept her hand twined with his and she saw his eyes widen for a second and then a smile broaden on his face as they walked back to the gang. Gobber was standing to one side, his arms folded and unibrow creased in a deep frown. Hiccup gulped then lifted his chin and Gustav was once again reminded of the young prince who had bravely defended his penniless orphan friends against the ire of his father.

"Sorry, Gobber," he said tonelessly, "but I have to do what I feel is right." The old warrior narrowed his eyes and walked forward, grabbing the young ex-Prince by the face and staring deep into his forest green eyes.

"And yer takin' responsibility for every wound, every death, are yer?" he asked grimly.

"That I am," Hiccup said simply. Then Gobber gave his broad smile.

"Then tell me yer plan!" he invited and there was a collective sigh of relief.

"Yeah, lay it on us, Hic!" Tuff invited. "Share the craziness with us, oh master!" Hiccup grinned.

"We have two aims-to get the villagers away and safe while leading the army away!" he explained. "Gobber-take Tuff, Galton, Yorgi, Erik, Bjorn, Morten, Asbjorn, Frode and Nils and intercept the army on the main south road. Meet them at Herder's Corner and catch them in a crossfire. Pin them down. They'll fight for a bit then go around. In the meantime Fishlegs, Ruff, Dagmar, Einar, Fafnir, Stian, Per and Ulf will take the villagers towards the caves by Thor's Beach. Split up to get the separate groups moving as soon as possible. Toothless, Astrid and I will ride round the peripheral groups and get them moving."

There was a pause. "That doesn't sound too crazy," Tuff said in a disappointed voice.

"I've put you with Gobber because I guess once the initial ambush has been completed, you'll need to improvise," Hiccup told him kindly. Tuff immediately cheered up.

"And me?" Ruff asked sharply. She was almost never separated from her twin. The outlaw gently moved to her side and took her arm, his hand curling gently around her tense hand.

"I want you to look after Fishlegs for me," he asked her softly. "He is brave but he lacks confidence in himself. You have enough…impetus for the pair of you. And you may want something to hold onto." He quirked a small smile and winked. "You'll be fine," he finished as she slowly cracked a grin and eyed the terrified Fishlegs like a easy snack.

"Well, hello gorgeous!" she grinned.

"Hiccup? HELP!"

"You're with me, Milady," he murmured. "You can take me to the stables to fetch Fury, my own horse. I have a couple of things stashed there I need to pick up. Then we'll get the villagers moving and I'll help harry the soldiers-but I want you to take Gustav back to the castle after."

"I want to fight!" she snapped. Hiccup fingered his swollen and cut lip with a small smile.

"And I'm not arguing…please-so not arguing!-but I need you in the castle, safe. Your father will be safer if you are not suspected and I need you to watch Gustav and Heather for me."

"I can fight!" she insisted. He sighed and leaned close to her.

"The axe is a close quarters weapon, Astrid," he reminded her. "You will be hopelessly outnumbered and exposed to the soldiers. If you attack them, you will lose everything. I can fight with a sword…but I am a better bowman and I can kill them from a safe distance and in greater numbers. Let me do what I have to without worrying I may watch your death. I can endure anything as long as I don't have to see that. Deal?" She nodded and punched him on the arm.

"Ow! I might need that!" he protested.

"That's for being right and far too brave!" she complained and then hauled the wincing Hiccup into a very intense kiss, lasting far longer and far more heatedly than she had predicted. Hiccup was gasping as he pulled away. "And that's for not getting killed." He gave a small hum of pleasure.

"I must not get killed more often," he smirked then looked up at his gaping gang. "MOVE OUT!"

oOo

Fishlegs was finding it hard to concentrate because Ruffnut was sticking very close to him. The girl was smiling frequently at him and he kept smiling back because he was sort of scared of her. She was forthright, crazy and impulsive-the total opposite of him-but he knew she also showed flashes of empathy, insight and her own warped brilliance. The others followed them because Fishlegs was reckoned to be one of the cleverest in the gang-after Hiccup-and no one argued with Ruffnut without ending up in a stream or a patch of brambles…sometimes both at the same time.

They located the main camp which had over a hundred displaced villagers. A number had drifted to join kin in surviving villages or the town of Berkingham but some had no one else and nowhere to go. The little clearing they had occupied was already becoming a small village, with shelters for families leaning against the trees, small hearths and a communal cooking area. Men were hunting the forest animals-yaks, boars, reindeer, rabbits and capercaillie-all of which were under the command of the crown. The penalty for such poaching was death but the villagers were already condemned so they reckoned why bother?

The outlaws burst into the centre of the camp and Fishlegs stood forward. "Who's in charge?" he asked. There was a pause then a burly middle-aged man stood forward.

"I'm Vegard!" he said. Fishlegs offered him his hand.

"Fishlegs, one of Hiccup's gang," he introduced himself. "There's no easy way of putting this. Um. Alvin's army is on its way. We need to get you out of here-now!"

"No! Haven't we suffered enough? Can't you fight them off?" Vegard protested, his eyes shocked and angry. Ruffnut stood forward and scowled.

"And how?" she asked pointedly. "There's about a dozen and a half of us. Against hundreds! All we'd do is die stupidly. And while I don't mind dying stupidly, I do mind dying pointlessly."

"Then take us to your base!" a male voice called from the gathering crowd.

"Um-your camp is about three times the area of our camp!" Fishlegs explained. "We just don't have any room!"

"Then you're just leaving is here to die?" another voice accused. Ruff spun slowly, scowling.

"We should," she snapped. "Look, we're here to lead you to safety-but only if you come NOW! Otherwise they'll catch you!"

That brought an instant reaction, people scrambling up, gathering shawls and what food they could grab and children and then clustering around the outlaws. Fishlegs asked the other two with them-Per and Stian-to bring up the rear and ensure there were no stragglers as he and Ruff led the way, walking quickly through the thickening stands of trees towards the cliffs and beyond, Thor's Beach. The larger boy was muttering to himself.

"Will you cut that out?" Ruff asked him testily. "You don't have to talk to yourself-I'm here!" His eyes widened and he blushed.

"I'm sorry!" he squeaked. "I-I thought that you…"

"What? Would be able to understand what you were talking about?" she challenged him, her eyes glittering. "I'm a Nut but I'm not an idiot." There was a pause. "All the time," she added.

"Hiccup was right," he said in a low voice. "He guessed there would be infiltrators who want to get to our base…and then let Alvin know." Ruff nodded.

"So they may be looking for a way to let him see which way we've gone," she realised. Then she grinned. "The Caves of Loki lead down to the beach but no one would know the way through unless they had played in them all their childhood. Fishlegs sighed.

"Don't tell me…" he moaned. Ruff grinned.

"I'll make a Nut of you yet!" she promised.

oOo

Gobber was cursing his lack of limbs as he followed the agile Tuffnut through the forest and up to the ancient oak that watched Herder's Corner, the only real entrance to the main forest from the south. Tuffnut was maintaining a rambling commentary and the old warrior was missing Hiccup. Sure, the young Prince (Gobber wouldn't accept the theft of his title even if the lad wouldn't allow anyone to use it) was sassy and sarcastic but he was quick, focussed and adept. Gobber wasn't sure about any of his team. But he deployed them, with Tuff at his side as they peered down the slope.

"Have ye got a plan for when they break our lines, laddie?" he asked. Tuffnut stared at him.

"Um...are you asking me?" he asked suspiciously. "I thought Hiccup was our good-at-plans specialist!"

"Tactician," Gobber corrected him. "Aye. But he's ridden off with that lass and left us to stop an entire army..." Tuffnut frowned.

"He said intercept, didn't he?" he mused, looking in pain as he wrestled with the unfamiliar discipline of actually thinking. "We're supposed to distract them and buy time for Fish and Butt-Elf to get the villagers away, right?" Gobber nodded.

"Yeah...have ye come up with something, lad?" he asked softly. Tuffnut had gone bright red and frankly looked constipated.

"Wait a minute...wait a minute..." he muttered then walked to a tree and hit his head against it. Twice. "No. I got nothing!"

They all stiffened at the sounds of hooves approaching but as they scrambled for various cover, Hiccup and Astrid rode up. Astrid had Gustav sitting behind her on Stormfly while Hiccup was on his own black stallion, Fury, which they had collected from the little hamlet to the northwest of the cove that they used as stables. The stallion was cantering easily with Toothless loping along at his side. It had taken a long time for his temperamental horse to accept the wolf but both animals now knew their places as they rode into battle. Hiccup grinned.

"You aren't gonna ambush much from a small patch of bracken, Gobber!" he said cheerfully. The old warrior scowled and hefted up his crossbow on his prosthetic (axe) hand.

"A plan would help!" he replied shortly. Hiccup grinned and tossed a saddle-bag down to him.

"Careful!" the outlaw grinned. "There's a canister of Zippleback gas in there...but there are also a couple of bags of black powder!" Tuffnut's eyes lit up and he smiled.

"Hic! You may be a tyrant but you know me!" he grinned and snatched the saddlebag from Gobber. Hiccup gave a mildly offended look.

"Tyrant? When am I a tyrant?" he protested.

"You make my sister and I do everything!" Tuff sighed dramatically. "Fooling us with your cunning disguises. Almost seducing me-you saucy thing!" Hiccup shuddered and face-palmed. "Dressing us up as Herders. Making us care for our well-groomed yaks. Cleaning up the salted fish we put in your sleeping roll..."

"Wait! You actually did that? Why would you do that?" Hiccup asked him in shock.

"Because you're a tyrant!" Tuffnut told him happily. "Now where do you want those explosions?" Hiccup face-palmed again as Astrid started to laugh.

"Go on, great leader!" she giggled as Hiccup murmured something sounding suspiciously like "Oh, gods…" "Tyrannise him!" Hiccup gaped then raised an eyebrow, a wolfish look on his face.

"Tuff-how many explosions can you make out of those bags of black powder?" he asked the male twin and Tuff grinned.

"How many do you want?" he asked. Hiccup held up four fingers and Tuff winked.

"As you command, oh Tyrant!" he quipped.

"I. Am. Not. A. Tyrant!" Hiccup growled. "Gobber-have you got any rope?"

"Always," his mentor replied with a broad grin. Hiccup smiled then turned to Astrid.

"Time to go, Milady," he murmured, catching her hand and pressing it to his lips. "You don't want to be caught here. Take Gustav back safely. For me. Please?" Her azure eyes stared into his face and read his concern. She leaned over and managed another quick kiss.

"Okay, mister outlaw!" she said, "but you take care as well?" He nodded and caught her hand.

"If anything happens," he said warningly, "you don't know me. Look out for yourself. Please." She nodded.

"And I'll swing by that little group of villagers you mentioned on the way up," she promised, then wheeled away and cantered into the trees. He stared after her and the outlaws all stared at him.

"Um…Midgard to Hiccup? I think they're coming!" Tuff called. Hiccup blinked and grinned.

"Then set the charges…there, there and there! And Gobber…I have a plan for that rope…"

oOo

Alvin was enjoying leading his forces, the Outcast army mingled with the Berk Guard that he had taken over as he had been named Sheriff. His chainmail was almost black and his helmet was decorated with three huge curved spikes on each side, making him an impressive figure. His huge axe was hanging at his ideas he jogged along on his grey horse. Eret rode at his side, his sword and axe ready. Drago's Envoy knew he couldn't return in failure so he needed to get the forest cleared and the outlaws defeated-and then retrieve the Treaties.

"Are yer lookin' forward ter this?" Alvin asked him cruelly. He was. Eret cast him half an eye.

"If you had been competent, Sheriff, I wouldn't need to be here still!" he snapped.

"I didn't notice yer doin' any better when yer 'ad yer 'orse stolen from under yer!" Alvin snapped back. "But this is gonna 'urt little 'Iccup. 'E won't be able ter resist throwing 'imself in 'arm's way!" They cantered up the slope towards the main fork in the path. "Just remember-any villagers yer find are ter be slain!"

He stiffened as the whine of an arrow sounded by his head-and then an explosion burst from the ground a yard in front of him. His and Eret's horses promptly threw them and galloped off, screaming. A rash of arrows impacted around the front rank of the army and the men hunkered down, fumbling for their crossbows.

"GET THEM!" Alvin bellowed, rolling over and struggling to get up.

Another explosion behind the main body of the army had them scattering into the bushes, fleeing in terror at the unexpected assault. Hiccup wheeled around on Fury from his vantage point up the path and Toothless leapt on an Outcast who was trying to sneak up on the outlaw. He raised his hand to the sounds of pained screams from the unfortunate Outcast.

"NOW!" he shouted as a rash of simple rope traps tightened around the men closest the the bushes and they found themselves hanging from the trees. Hiccup grinned as Tuff set another charge and threw this one straight at a huge beech. The explosion reverberated around the clearing and all the Outcasts still on their horses were thrown. Then, with a sickening crack and the tearing sound of wood, the huge beech toppled and slammed down, blocking the road and almost squashing Alvin. Hiccup nocked up a fire arrow and spun round the face Alvin.

"How's your day going, Al?" he called with a grin. "Having a quiet ride in the woods?"

"'Iccup! I'll 'ave yer 'ead fer this!" the Sheriff roared. "After I get me Treaties back!" Hiccup gave a short laugh.

"I think you need to keep your eye on the Castle rather than playing in the forest!" he scoffed. "Losing Treaties? What kind of incompetent security are you running? That never happened in my father's time!" Another volley of arrows from the trees surrounded the Sheriff as the rest of the gang kept honest any man fancying his chances against the apparently lone outlaw.

"Yer can't beat me!" Alvin roared, finally making his feet. Hiccup paused-then fired his arrow straight at Eret, who was trying to flank him. The Envoy found his hand pinned to a tree with a scream.

"Hands where I can see them!" Hiccup quipped, seamlessly nocking and lighting another arrow. "And I'd find another road, Al. This one's a bit…bumpy…" He raised the arrow, took aim and fired. Another explosion erupted ten feet behind Alvin and the rest of his men sprinted off down the track. Hiccup gave a grin as he loaded another flaming arrow and took aim. Alvin peered around: Eret had managed to wrench his hand free and was sprinting down the hill to regroup and Alvin had no desire to face Hiccup and whatever magic he had on his own.

"This ain't over!" he shouted and ran after his horse. Hiccup watched him, then lowered the bow and blew the arrow out. He had guessed right: four explosions was all it took. Tuff walked up admiringly.

"Ultimate destruction, bro!" he said cheerfully.

"What happened to Tyrant?"

"That was so awesome!" Tuff continued happily as Gobber limped out and stared at the fallen tree.

"It won't stop them for long!" he warned Hiccup. The young man nodded.

"I know-but they may think the path is still mined so they could go another way," Hiccup said. "The only obvious way-unless you were brought up around here which neither Al nor the Envoy were-is up the little valley of the Nadder stream. Which would be the ideal place for a couple of netter traps and a mini-landslide…if Tuff can manage that."

"WHAT?"

"And you laddie?" Gobber asked, staring up at the lean shape. Hiccup gave a small grin.

"I'll warn the villagers in the north of the forest-and then head up to Scauldron Bay," he said determinedly. "You take care, old man. Tuff will sort out the traps for you…"

"Tyrant!"

oOo

Astrid had come across the little group of displaced villagers pretty much exactly where Hiccup said they would be. She knew he had visited them all with food and to check no one needed medical attention or help so he knew where they all were. She wondered what other secrets were in that messy auburn head-and who would be in danger if he ever got captured. She knew she was in danger as his accomplice-and so was Gustav, sitting behind her and grasping her firmly.

"Do you actually know how to ride?" she asked him. He shrugged.

"A little," he admitted, "but I'm not much good, Lady Astrid. Never had much practice." She smiled.

"I'll make sure you get some-as my groom, Gustav," she promised. She felt him jerk in surprise.

"R-really? I thought that was just something to shut up Vorg!" he said indiscreetly and then gulped. "Sorry, Lady Astrid," he added hastily. She kicked them to a trot as they emerged onto a smaller forest path, heading south towards the west cliffs behind Berkingham.

"Maybe it was, Gustav…but that doesn't mean I didn't mean it as well…" He cracked a small grin.

"Really?" he asked eagerly. "I…"

"HALT!"

The click of crossbow bolts had them freezing and Astrid pulling Stormfly to a halt as they faced a dozen armed guards, their bows all pointing dead at Astrid. They were led by a very angry Snotlout…


	11. Fire over Scauldron Bay

"What the Hel are you doing out here, Astrid?" Snotlout almost shouted at her, his face puce with rage. She noted he was in what was clearly a borrowed guard's uniform, the fit too tight across his stocky body and he was wearing borrowed boots. They didn't look his size. She lifted her chin proudly and glared back at him, feeling Gustav's grasp around her tighten in anxiety.

"Riding in the Forest!" she snapped back. "I wasn't aware there was a law against it!" Snotlout bit his tongue, fervently praying he would remember to ask his father to make such a law.

"I was riding after you!" Snotlout snapped. "Didn't you hear me?" She shrugged.

"I was concentrating on my form and my axe exercises," she said unrepentantly.

"I was shouting!"

"What can I say? I prefer training alone!"

He rode up to her and grabbed her arm hard. Her face tightened in pain. "I caught up with you!" he hissed. "You were nowhere to be seen. Where were you?" She stared at him in shock.

"I was in the bushes," she hissed through her teeth angrily. "I certainly didn't want you stumbling across me!"

"Were you with him?" he snarled. "Were you with him?" She slapped him across the face.

"No, I was alone in the bushes!" she repeated icily. Snotlout stared at her dumbly but by now, the rest of the guards cottoned on and had lowered their crossbows. All were staring at the floor, embarrassed and blushing.

"But what were you doing that you couldn't…" he persisted and caught her expression. "Oh. OH!" His mouth fell open, aghast. "I-I…"

"By the time I emerged, you were gone and Stormfly was standing there alone." Snotlout felt himself cringe and turned his ire on the other target.

"So what is this…serf doing here?" he snarled. Astrid rolled her eyes.

"Gustav is my groom-well, I have adopted him as such since I had to leave Kjetil back at Scauldron Bay," she explained briskly. "I left him some tasks and then ordered him to meet me so I could start to instruct him so he can exercise my Stormfly while I am otherwise engaged." Snotlout stared at her. "Well, you are wooing me, aren't you?" He shook himself.

"Yeah, but you haven't said 'yes' to me yet!" he complained.

"Snotlout, we have been on about four proper dates-I don't count two of them because you were fighting with your male friends and gambling rather than paying me the slightest attention!" she reprimanded him. "I am the Heir to an extremely noble House-and it is stated in Bjontegaard's Etiquette, chapter seven, page eleven, paragraph five that "the more noble the maiden, the longer and more painful the wooing for the prospective suitor!" Unless you're not up to the challenge?"

"Painful?"

She smirked. "We haven't even started yet, Snottykins," she said slightly sarcastically. He gulped then fashioned a scowl.

"You better get yourself and your servant back to the Castle, my Lady," he said grimly. "Anyone caught in the forest who isn't there on castle business isn't going to walk away!"

oOo

Fishlegs had felt the panic rise in his throat as they reached the entrance to the caves of Loki. A few villagers had protested and wanted to take the long road down to the beach-a much more exposed and vulnerable way-but most had trusted the large former clerk and the feisty female twin. So they rounded up their charges, arranged them into little groups, each with a responsible person in charge: an outlaw of villager leader such as Vegard or his two sons, Oddvar and Oystein. Ruff was to lead, since she actually knew the way and Fishlegs had volunteered to take the last group…to look for anyone who fancied sneaking away and alerting Alvin's forces.

"I won't be able to help you if I am at the front," Ruff told him. Fishlegs gulped. He had worked that one out for himself. She grinned.

"Don't get yourself killed," she said and waved, then grabbed a torch. Fishlegs watched them all file in then followed, his blue eyes watching the villagers. He noted a couple of the young men who had shouted to go to their hideout were taking very close attention of the way. One was trying to mark the way with a chalky shell that he must have picked from the beach in the past and the husky outlaw quietly scrubbed out the marks as he brought up the rear.

Ruff was setting a fair pace, because she couldn't think easily if she went slow. She and Tuff had always run through the caves and going slow made recognising the landmarks harder. The villagers were talking to her and she tried to answer as patiently as possible but she was missing her brother and also missing Fishlegs. She knew why Hiccup had paired her with her crush and part of her was grateful but another, larger part wanted to punch him for interfering. He always had to try to help out, to do the best for his friend…no matter how difficult or painful it was for him…

…she remembered lying curled in her cell, fighting the pain, curling in fear and hating herself for being weak and pathetic. For being a girl. She wanted to be her brother or at least someone sorta awesome. But instead, they had laughed at her and then they had humiliated her, scorning her for wanting to be a man, for doing a man's job and offending their own sensibilities. So she had suffered and curled up in the cell, listening in fear for the next set of steps and the next person to come in and make her feel worse…

…but the next one who had come had been a very scrawny guard with stunning green eyes glittering behind the face-plate and wisps of auburn hair poking out from his helmet. He had crouched down by her and offered to help her. She had responded predictably by beating the crap out of him until he had wrenched his helmet off and revealed himself to her. And only then had she stopped and burst into tears…

…and he had hugged her. He didn't worry she had just almost punched him senseless because he could tell she was in pain and afraid and doing all she could to defend herself. So he had wrapped his arms around her, wincing at his new bruises and shushing her until the iron band around her chest had eased away and she had been as coherent as normal for her. Then he had kept his word and fought with her to get her away, taking an arrow to the arm in the process. Once she was away, he had let her go her own way, giving her the choice to join him or not. He never expected anything of her: his only motivation was to release a helpless person from a hellish imprisonment. And for that, she could never ever repay him…

"Stupid interfering well-meaning tyrant…" she grumbled though she was smiling slightly at the memory. She ducked under a lowish arch and began to follow the pathway was it sloped down through the cliffs and began a lazy spiral. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the little torches at regular intervals behind her and-with relief-the bulky shape of Fishlegs. She waved her torch and he nodded. She led them aside into a small cave to allow the little caravan to rest for a few minutes. As soon as they were all in, families huddled together, children snuggled against their mothers and the elderly found places to rest their aching feet. Ruff and Fish stood by the entrance and the husky young man leaned closer to her.

"There are three young men who constantly grumble they aren't coming to our camp and keep marking the way through the caves," he murmured, leaning close to her ear. She paused. Normally, she wouldn't allow anyone she didn't wholly trust-anyone other than Tuffnut and Hiccup-into her personal space but she found she was comfortable with Fishlegs. The former clerk was gentle, kind and a little afraid of her-none of which she found threatening.

"You think they may be working for Alvin?" she guessed. He nodded.

"Let's see," he murmured. She grinned broadly and then walked a little closer to the group Fishlegs had indicated as possible traitors. "So you think the longer way is better?" he said loudly.

"Yeah-the short way is much steeper," she explained to him shrugging. "All you need to do really is take the left fork once we leave this chamber and then take the downhill tunnel. It leads you straight to the beach. But the way is too steep and too narrow for a group of so many old men and children…"

"Should we send a scouting group down?" Fish asked her. "I mean, I guess some young men could sneak down much faster and check the beach is clear…"

"It's safer to keep the group together," Ruff argued. "Remember Hiccup's orders? Keep them safe!"

"And if they've found the beach already?"

"Why should they? They're looking in the forest for people, not down by the beach having a picnic!" She tried not to burst out laughing at the mental image.

"If you say so…" Fish sighed heavily and then the young men they suspected walked forward.

"We can help," the first-Svein-offered. "We couldn't help hearing. We will go down and check the beach is safe…"

"Are you sure?" Ruff asked. "If you take a wrong turn…"

"You said left fork out of this chamber and downhill tunnel afterwards…" the second, Knut, added.

"You're risking yourself to help us so it's the least we can do," the third man-Tore-announced, at complete odds with the grumbling they had carried on throughout the whole of the journey so far. Fish looked at Ruff and saw her trying not to grin.

"Okay," he said as she turned away, then handed them his torch. "Take care…" And they watched them go. Fish stared at the girl.

"They won't die will they?" he asked. She scowled.

"They deserve to," she pointed out but then shook her head. "The tunnel gets very low. They'll have to crawl. Then it gets tall then low…and very twisty…then low… It actually joins our tunnel about three yards before we hit the beach!" He stared at her.

"So the short-cut…"

"Is a Nut-cut…" she grinned. "No shorter but far more irritating!" Fish found himself smiling back at her: somehow, one on one, she was more focussed and a huge amount less insane than he had suspected. In fact, he was hoping that this mission could last a little longer…because he wouldn't mind carrying on being an honorary Nut.

oOo

Hiccup was bent low over Fury, the stallion galloping easily as they shot along the small and little-known forest path that carved through the northern half of Raven point Forest towards Scauldron Bay. He had tracked down the two little groups of villagers and directed them away to Thor's Beach for their own safety-and then he and Toothless had loped off, heading on to keep his word.

The young outlaw tightened his grasp on the reins. He was a superb horseman, able to almost read Fury's mind and control the horse with the slightest alteration in his body weight. He had been scorned and scoffed for many years and his father's constant disappointment had scourged the boy's confidence until he had finally made up his mind to conquer the skill. Along with his swordplay and archery. There had been weeks and months when he had survived on a couple of hours sleep in between his practices and lessons. Stoick hadn't noticed until his weakling son had beat the other nobles' sons in the annual Tourney and had been declared champion of Berk.

He wheeled Fury to a halt and Toothless paused and growled. Immediately, Hiccup dismounted and pulled the horse and wolf into the lea of a stand of spruce as the main road curled lazily past their position only about twenty feet away. To his right, the Berserker army was trotting along, the column led by the familiar shape of Dagur with Vorg, his most faithful and vicious Captain, at his side. The Berserkers were renowned as lethal bloodthirsty and unstoppable: they played for keeps. And they were heading for the Hofferson Stronghold. Hiccup calculated they were an hour or so's ride away-which meant he could get there in half that time. It was cutting it perilously fine. He grabbed Toothless's scruff and held the wolf still: he could feel the subvocal growl vibrating through the animal. He hated Dagur as much as the Berserker loathed the wolf. But as soon as the column had passed, Hiccup swung into the saddle and was galloping away up the little path, his heart pounding with even greater urgency because he knew he was Lord Hofferson's only hope.

Fury sped over the ground, his hooves loud in the cool afternoon. Fury accelerated up the low southern slopes of the Timberjack Hills, the forest wrapping tightly over the gentle slopes. Hiccup stared ahead, his heart pounding in his chest. A large part of him was telling him that what he was doing was fantastically stupid and suicidal but he could still recall his father's voice booming loudly in his ear as they rode towards the Hall with their entourage.

"Remember son-these are your distant kin. You should honour Lord Hofferson as you do me. Remember-a King protects his own!"

He sighed as they topped the slope and galloped fast down the trail to the edge of the trees and Scauldron Bay. He ducked as he broke cover and accelerated along the trail towards the main road and the Hall rising ahead of them: a fine two storey wooden and stone building with the shield of House Hofferson on the door and the gold and azure pennant flying from the roof. He waved to the guards on the approach and swept by, the loping black wolf at his side familiar from happier days: all the guards at Scauldron Bay knew the Prince and his wolf. As he reached the main door, he leapt from the saddle and handed the reins to the shocked-but familiar-door guard.

"Hold him for me, will you?" he asked with a dazzling smile. "I need a quick word with the Lord." The door guard gaped.

"But…but…there's a price on your head….sire…" he gabbled. Hiccup clouted him cheerily on the shoulder.

"Don't sweat, Rolf!" he said cheerily. "I'll make sure Lord Hofferson give you his cut when he hands me in!" And with that he slipped past the shocked man and strode boldly into the Hall with Toothless at his heels and his bow slung across his back. The place was achingly familiar and he had to force himself not to stare reminiscently at places where he and Astrid had played, where their mothers had sat and watched their young children, planning for them to marry one day…plans shattered by Berserker and Outcast Raids that had sequentially ended his own and Astrid's mothers and altered the courses of their lives.

He reached the main living area and danced through the door and into the study…and almost had his head taken off by a heavy battle-axe.

"TRAITOR!"

Hiccup had back-pedalled and drew his sword to parry any further strikes, his forest green eyes wide. "Good to see you too, my Lord!" he said with forced cheeriness.

"You've got some balls to walk in here, outlaw!" Hofferson snapped, swiping again. "You're endangering my people!"

"Um…actually already done. Sorry," Hiccup said backing away, his eyes locked on the man's enraged face. Hofferson looked fit to kill and he raised his axe-but Hiccup grabbed his sword in both hands and blocked the blow from the axe. "But Alvin couldn't have known if one of your own men hadn't been watching us out back in the middle of the night and reported to the Sheriff." Hofferson swung again at the young outlaw and Hiccup danced back, breathing hard in worry. This was wasting time.

"You…" the Lord growled. Hiccup threw his sword down in sudden anger.

"Dagur and his Berserkers are half an hour-no more!-behind me!" he shouted at the older man, his eyes flashing as he tried to get through to him. "And I will accept the blame because you'll blame me anyway. But you need to evacuate the Hall, my Lord. Dagur has come to raze it to the ground!" Hofferson paused and stared at him, his piercing blue eyes boing into the younger man's face. Hiccup felt himself flush under the angry scrutiny: it felt like when he had disappointed his father.

"We are Hofferson. We don't run," he announced proudly. Hiccup grabbed his sword and sheathed it brusquely.

"Are all your staff?" he asked pointedly. "I mean, I knew you had a large family, my Lord but…" He heard the creak as the man's fists curled and he sighed. "Get the non-fighters away into the hills with all that you treasure, my Lord. Because this place will be destroyed!"

"There's no way that…"

"Dagur has all his Berserkers and they are heading here!" Hiccup shouted. Hofferson glared at him.

"You've really done it this time, boy!" he growled. Hiccup sighed.

"My Lord, I would rather face your wrath and an entire army of Berserkers than tell your daughter I failed to save you," he admitted. Hofferson glared at him for a moment-then grinned. He gave a wistful sigh.

"Her mother was the same, believe it or not," he said slowly. "As feisty as my daughter but tempered with a softer side. I fear that her death meant that Astrid never got the experience of how a female warrior doesn't have to be aggressive all the time." He blinked and focussed again. "I will marshal the forces. Can you get the staff out?" Hiccup nodded and grinned warily.

"At least I know where the kitchens and scullery are!" he quipped and raced from the room.

It had taken less than fifteen minutes to have all the house staff outside in the stable yard and loaded in a cart, looking scared and whispering at the identity of the man chasing them out of the house. A number were guessing he had murdered the Lord but Hiccup rolled his eyes and ignored them: he was used to be misjudged by now. Then Hofferson emerged and loaded two chests onto the same mule Hiccup had brought the taxes on. The Lord swept his cool azure gaze across the scared domestic staff, seeing their suspicious glances at the lean, leather-clad shape of the outlaw.

"He has warned us that the Sheriff of Berkingham has ordered the destruction of Hofferson Hall and the theft of Scauldron Bay by the Crown!" he announced. "Get them to the Hills, Fireheart!" he ordered his sergeant and the man and five men-at-arms flanked the cart of servants and the laden mule as they left the back yard at a trot. Hofferson stared after them. "The chests contain my deeds and papers that prove the lands belong to Astrid," he said. "I also sent her mother's jewels and a few momentos from Astrid and her mother." He paused. "The ransom money is…"

Hiccup interrupted him instantly. "Don't tell me, my Lord," he said firmly. "If I do not know, I cannot be forced to tell." Hofferson stared at him. "Dagur wants me. If I can distract him, you will be able to get away." The Lord stared at the young man, his face set with determination.

"I think your father misjudged you for many years," he said softly. Hiccup gave a short laugh.

"Actually, he didn't," he replied. "I was utterly useless-weak, clumsy, too small-and though I have improved, I'm still not what he wants in a son." Hofferson clapped him hard on the shoulder and almost knocked him to the floor.

"Maybe," the Lord said, "but you may well be what I am looking for in a son-in-law." And then the cry went up:

"BERSERKERS!"

oOo

Alvin's army had been mired down in the valley they had been tricked up and Tuffnut had managed to get half of them utterly stuck in a small landslide that had trapped horses and men in the stickiest mud Gobber had ever seen. The few that had struggled out had managed to find one villagers' camp (deserted) and set it on fire but then they had faced Tuff's best prank yet: a yak stampede, led by Barf and Belch.

Alvin, Eret, Savage, Snotlout and all their commanders had scattered and ended in a huge thicket of brambles to the total amusement of the outlaws. After ten hilarious minutes of listening to painful cries as the men tried in vain to hack their way out of the trap, the outlaws knew they had won. The Sheriff would not be pressing on any further today. So they had sneaked away, taking out any straggling Berk Guards or Outcasts and ensuring the path to Thor's Beach was completely obscured. And then they had rejoined the others.

Ruff looked up with a smile as she heard her brother shout "BUTT-ELF!" worriedly and she had waved at him with a laugh. She rose to go and exchange a few insults with him-well, she wouldn't want him thinking she was getting soft-but she paused as she saw a faint look of regret on Fishlegs's face. The husky boy went pink as she walked back to him and leaned close. Then she grabbed his pudgy cheeks and pressed a firm kiss on his mouth.

"Don't get used to it, big boy!" she grinned. "But this time, you did good-and you are officially a Nut now!" Then she turned and ran back to her brother.

"Er-thanks?" he had squeaked. Then he walked back to Gobber, his eyes scanning the group. "Gobber? Where's Hiccup?"

oOo

The fighting was ferocious as Lord Hofferson's small personal guard came up against the Berserkers. Hiccup and Toothless fought furiously as well, disarming and laying out men where they could, defending themselves when they had to. But the Lord's men were falling rapidly and the Hall was on fire, flames from fire-arrows having already consumed the upper floor. Hiccup looked at the Lord and the four men he had left.

"Time to go!" he mouthed and the Lord nodded, retreating back through the main doors and slamming the bar down, then racing through the burning main hall as the door shattered and Dagur led his men in.

"BROTHER! I SEE YOU!" he roared as the roof creaked alarmingly. Hiccup backed away, an arrow aimed at the Berserker Chief and stared at him with a small smile.

"Hooray for you. Same old Dagur, in fact! Vision 20/20-check! Mouth set on loud-check! Sanity-absent without leave!"

He heard Lord Hofferson moving by him, his axe clamped in his hands but he also could hear a hideous creaking overhead and he turned, running as the crash and a sudden rush of heat heralded the collapse of the roof. Hofferson cried out as Hiccup hit him at waist height, throwing him clear. There was an enormous crash as burning wood, plaster and brick slammed down. Hofferson rolled away as Hiccup bit down on a scream, his head buried in his arms. Dagur and his Berserkers were trapped the other side of the burning debris-but Hiccup's left foot was crushed under a supporting beam, the flames scorching his skin as he lifted his head blearily. Toothless was whining as the young outlaw grimaced, tugging and feeling dizzy with the pain. He was trapped.

"Go, bud!" he groaned. "Take the Lord away. Leave me!" But the wolf whined and gripped his sleeve and tugged desperately, whimpering. "Go…" he breathed as the flames took hold of the curtains and the hangings in the main hall.

Then he felt a sudden surge of pain in his leg and he bit into his lip, drawing blood, but he heard a movement and looked up to see Hofferson jam his axe under the beam and lever it a few inches off the ground.

"MOVE, boy!" he growled, breathing heavily and Hiccup grimaced and used his other leg to kick himself away, Toothless still hauling on his arm. As soon as he was free, the Lord dropped the beam and the outlaw gasped in pain, bowing his head again. With trepidation, he glanced at his foot and then looked away urgently: the mangled and scorched mess looked very little like a foot or ankle now. He went white but determinedly hauled himself to his knees and looked up at Astrid's father.

"I think you need to go, sir," he said faintly. He was feeling very sick. "Dagur will try to get through and then he will go round. You need to get to the horses." Hofferson pulled him up onto his foot and almost dragged him along, swiftly through the passage and kitchen to the stable yard and back to the gate. Hiccup groaned.

"Stop struggling, boy," Hofferson said. "We need to get you to your horse. I'm not sure your father would be happy if I let you die…" Hiccup lifted his head, seeing no sign of a horse. He whistled through his teeth and Fury trotted up, whinnying. There was no sign of any other horse that could carry the Lord away. He glanced up into the Lord's eyes, his own dark with pain. His left leg was excruciating: he couldn't bear weight-walk or run-and he couldn't ride. Fury wouldn't be able to take them both anyway and he had done this. He had endangered Astrid's father and he owed her the rescue. No matter the cost.

"You have to go, my Lord," he said determinedly. "Astrid has already lost her mother, her brother and her Uncle. She is being courted by Snotlout, for Thor's sake! She really doesn't deserve to lose you as well."

"And you are the Heir to the throne," Hofferson told him. He shook his head.

"Sir-the Kingdom has been stolen. I am disinherited, dishonoured and outlawed. And I can't ride. I need you alive to protect the north and await my father's return." Lord Hofferson paused, staring at the bowed shape as Hiccup dropped to his knees just outside the back gate. He stared sternly at his wolf. "Toothless-guard Lord Hofferson. Toothless-take him to Gobber. Understand?" The wolf panted, his long pink tongue hanging out and he offered a tiny bark. He briefly held his hand out and the black wolf pressed his muzzle against the hand without hesitation. "Good boy. I love you, bud. Now-GO!"

"But you…" Hofferson began. Hiccup looked up angrily, taking off his quiver and emptying the arrows on the ground, mechanically sticking them in a line by his left hip as he heard shouts and steps approaching.

"A King protects his own. I am my father's son and I must do what he would expect. I will cover you, my Lord. Now, in Thor's name, will you please GO?" He grasped the first arrow, nocked it and fired. There was the thud of a Berserker falling. Hofferson jumped into the saddle, wheeled Fury round and the jet stallion accelerated away, the black wolf loping along at his side. Hiccup cast them a small smile then shot down another Berserker. He had maybe thirty arrows-but that should be more than enough to keep his promise. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his scorched and crushed foot, he lifted, aimed and fired arrows at an inhuman pace. Any Berserker who made after the fleeing Lord was ruthlessly shot down…until finally, his hand snatched for another arrow-and grasped thin air only. He looked down-and saw he had fired every arrow. There were many dead but many more alive-and they were all coming for him.

But Lord Hofferson had long vanished into the spruce line of the Timberjack Hills and Dagur didn't have an army big enough to find him in the dense woodland. A tiny smile of triumph tilted his bloodless lips. He had done all he could.

Wearily, he dropped his bow and drew his sword, using it as a lever to help himself to stand on his one good foot, breathing hard against the pain. He could feel the heat from the blazing Hall behind him, the sparks flying up into the grey sky. He lifted his chin as he saw Dagur and Vorg, approaching. With a grin, he lifted his sword-then tossed it at their feet. Vorg lunged forward, the hilt of his sword slamming across his face. He went down hard, curling as he hit the ground and groaning lightly.

"Ow," he murmured then looked up brightly at the insane Berserker Chief. "Hi, Dagur," he said with forced levity. Dagur pressed his axe hard into Hiccup's throat and pressed his boot on the young outlaw's chest in a fierce gesture of supremacy. Hiccup allowed his head to drop back and finally allowed fear to fill his heart. There was no getting away now.

"Hello…brother!" the Berserker Chief growled, his flat pale green eyes cruel. "Finally…you're mine!"


	12. Leaderless

Astrid stared at her reflection in the long mirror in her room. She looked every inch the Princess-in-waiting: her golden hair was elegantly braided round her head and over her shoulder, her slender shape was outlined in a silk duck-egg blue gown with gold stitching and a gold belt was tied around her slim waist. She lifted her chin and blinked at the elegant noblewoman facing her: she was beautiful, yes-but she looked so sad. And she swallowed: why shouldn't she be sad? Her home had been burned, her lands had been taken by the crown and the only hope for the poor land of Berk was languishing in the dungeons.

"He's waiting," Heather said calmly. The neat servant was standing at the door in her plain dove-grey gown, her face serene. Astrid sighed and turned to her.

"Any news?" she asked softly. Heather's grey eyes flicked up and she shook her head.

"No, the kingdom is calm and there is no sign of the outlaws," she said ambiguously. Astrid sighed, then shook her head again and glided out. She was effectively a prisoner and her marriage date to Snotlout had been set. And now he was going to gloat over his cousin-with his new betrothed. She strode down the stairs and found him waiting there, a triumphant and cold look in his blue eyes.

"Milady," he purred.

"NEVER use that word with me again," she said in an arctic tone. Snotlout took her arm.

"But you will be my Princess," he retorted and led her down the stairs to the dungeons. Astrid gritted her teeth and tried to ignore his inane chatter which was more taunting and cruel rather than the illusion of pleasantry that he had affected to try to woo her. "And all this will be yours…once we wed, of course. Maybe we can even build a little Hunting Lodge up by Scauldron Bay…after the children are born, of course…"

"Children?" The thought of being any way intimate with Snotlout was making Astrid feel physically sick. His thick fingers dug deeper into her arm as they passed through the door into the dungeons and found a heavy guard presence round a cell with a barred door. Snotlout jerked his head and the door was unlocked. The guards went in first and then the young Lord escorted his betrothed in. He gestured and the curled shape on the floor was hauled up by the arms. A generous handful of his auburn mop was grabbed to wrench his bowed head up.

Hiccup's swollen eyes fluttered and bleary forest green depths stared muzzily out at the two visitors. "Hello, Milady," he murmured thickly over bloodied lips. "I wondered when you'd drop by!" He took a shuddering breath. "Hi, Snot!" he added after a long moment.

The guard backhanded him brutally and he sagged. Astrid tried not to wince as he groaned. His face was already very swollen with bruises, there was blood at his mouth from where he had been struck and an iron collar was clamped around his bruised neck. His green tunic was ripped to shreds and his leggings were holed and torn as well as smeared with blood. But what shocked her the most, more than the bruises and whip-marks visible through the rags of his clothes, was the bloodstained, padded bandage fastened around the stump of his left leg, the limb terminating six inches below the knee. His left foot and lower shin was just gone.

"Hiccup…" she gasped in shock. His battered face moved into a lopsided smile.

"That bad, huh?" he managed thickly. "If you'd called ahead, I could've called the interior designer and laid on canapés…"

The guard hit him again.

"Ow…" Hiccup groaned. "No canapés then." Snotlout gave a small round of applause, his expression pitiless.

"I told you I'd watch you scream, traitor!" he sneered. Hiccup gave creaking laugh, though pain was etched into his gaunt face.

"I think I've cursed, whined, pleaded and groaned but not screamed…" he argued stubbornly.

"Why did you cut his leg off?" Astrid asked faintly. Snotlout turned his attentions to his companion, seeing her face ashen with shock, He tightened his grip on her.

"Don't think we were unkind, my darling," he oozed. "His foot was crushed and severely burned from where he was caught in Scauldron Bay. As the traitor's hall burned. He defied Dagur but the man brought him back because he still has something we want…"

The Treaties… Astrid realised, staring at the battered and scrawny man hanging from the guards' grasps. Hiccup had been lanky and lean to start with-but now, after a week under the torturers, he was looking gaunt and haunted. His only colour was his auburn hair and his bright green eyes.

"You tortured him by cutting his leg off?" she spat. Snotlout growled in his throat and the grip on her arm grew very painful. She clenched her teeth, determined not to make a sound.

"NO!" he scorned. "You misjudge us. The leg was so damaged it could not be saved. He would die of infection-so we amputated to save him." He gave a very nasty smile. "We didn't want him to die before we got what we wanted…and before his execution…" She turned her azure gaze back to Hiccup, seeing the young man stiffen imperceptibly. It had been obvious that he had been traumatised by his first visit to the block: the threat of a final visit was clearly very effective.

"Aww…never knew you cared," Hiccup said tonelessly. "And you hide it so well..." He sounded weary. Snotlout pulled Astrid closer and she could see the despair in the prisoner's eyes.

"I just wanted you to know, cuz, that we're getting married," Snotlout told Hiccup obviously, his hand stroking her waist. There was a look of disgust and despair in her eyes. Hiccup's eyes darkened with brief pain. "And it's really all thanks to you. After all, we could never get Lord Hofferson declared traitor until you gave us the means. And then it was easy to burn the place down, remove the old Lord from his honour and take all possessions-including the fatherless daughter-for the crown. Dad approved the wedding instantly. I can't wait for the wedding night."

"I can," Astrid murmured and Hiccup's battered face tilted into a tiny smile.

"Commiserations, Milady," Hiccup managed thickly. "Marrying a wild boar would be more pleasant. Even I wouldn't swap you-and they've cut off my leg and whipped me raw!" Snotlout lunged forward, grabbing a large handful of Hiccup's hair and hauling his face back, stretching his neck painfully. The shorter man glared into the prisoner's battered face.

"You know, Useless-if you're this mouthy, we clearly have been far too lenient on you!" He nodded to the guards. "Lash him again. Another thirty. That should silence his flapping tongue!" He grinned nastily as Hiccup was hauled back to the wall opposite and his arms chained in the manacles above his head. He was roughly turned to face the wall and the shreds of his tunic hauled up to his shoulders. Astrid gulped at seeing the horrible fresh wounds he already had and tried to close her eyes but Snotlout shook her hard. "And you will watch!" he commanded. "This isn't something he's escaping from." Her hand rose to clasp the tiny pendant she wore and he moved her hand to see a tiny but perfect axe in gold on a fine chain. "And what's that?" His tone was suspicious.

"It was a gift from my mother," she lied coldly. "I always wear this-in her memory." Snotlout gripped her arm painfully.

"You will remember this!" he promised. "Hiccup isn't escaping. And he'll be executed for the celebrations of our wedding." he pressed an unwelcome sloppy kiss on her cheek and she remained stock still. "Begin!"

oOo

"Nothing?" Fishlegs repeated the question incredulously. He couldn't believe that they hadn't done anything yet.

"Nothing. Nil. Nada. No news at all," Tuffnut reported. "They've announced he's been captured so Berk is now a safer place-hah!-but nothing since then."

"If he was dead, they would announce it as well," Gobber told them, whittling a piece of wood worriedly with a knife attachment for his missing hand. "As they would if they had an execution date. No, they are keeping him captive for a reason." He sighed.

"They want the Treaties," Fishlegs muttered.

"My guess as well!" Gobber murmured.

"Me too. Yay! Treaties rock!" Ruff added. They looked at her. "They don't rock?" She asked.

"Who's rock?" Tuff added. Gobber growled in his throat.

"They will keep Hiccup a prisoner until they force him to tell them where the Treaties are hidden," he told them.

"But…but they're hidden here!" Fishlegs muttered. "Oh dear!"

"No, that's not the problem," Gobber said sadly. "I know Hiccup. I know he looks like a fishbone and lacks self-confidence…"

"…not that any of us noticed that…tyrant!" Tuff whispered very loudly.

"…but he is the stubbornest, most bone-headed, difficult, determined, annoying and sarcastic young man I know. And that includes his father!" Gobber finished. "He'll die before he betrays you-or Berk by giving those Treaties back. His will is far stronger than his body will ever be. If we don't get him out, they will kill him." Fishlegs sighed.

"Then we need to send someone into the castle," he decided.

"I can feel a 'twins' job coming on," Tuff whispered to his sister.

"Yeah-why couldn't Fishface come along…mmm…actually, that's not a bad idea…"

"EEP! I mean Oh dear!" Fishlegs said, flustered. But Gobber was eyeing the twins with a calculating grin.

"Actually, I have just the perfect job for you two!" he said. They shared a knowing look.

"Told you!"

oOo

"Oh brother…why do you keep frustrating me?" Dagur sighed, staring at the battered shape listing on the stool, his hands held still by guards and face tight with anxiety.

"Just the way I am, I guess," Hiccup groaned. "Or maybe because it's fun?" Dagur turned on him, his face twisted with hatred. He punched Hiccup-hard-and the younger man exhaled with a pained gasp.

"Yeah-works for me!" Dagur sneered and Hiccup tried to regain his breath. He guessed he now had some broken ribs. "You know, if you just help us, we could make life a lot better…"

"I'm listening," Hiccup wheezed, blinking against the pain.

"You would be a much better ruler than Spitelout or Snotlout could ever be, brother," Dagur said, his hand trailing gently along the line of Hiccup's jaw. He stiffened. "You could even have Astrid, if you wanted…"

"What about…what she wants…?" he grunted. Dagur laughed.

"What does that have to do with anything?" the Berserker laughed. "All we need are those Treaties back, brother…and then we can put you on the throne instead of your vacuous Uncle and brainless cousin…" Hiccup lifted his head, feeling the grips tighten on his hands. He knew Dagur was trying to be nice and that wouldn't last.

"You don't need a ruler though, do you?" he asked pointedly. "The Treaties have ceded all the north of Berk to Drago and he will take the rest…so you are stripping as much as you can from the land before he lands and claims his prize. You think I would help you destroy my land? Go to Hel!"

Dagur roared and his fist crashed into his face. Hiccup tasted blood and groaned as the Berserker fisted his hair and tugged up his head roughly. The point of his dagger traced lightly over Hiccup's bruised chest and down his heaving abdomen.

"I was hoping this time you would see reason," the Berserker sighed dramatically as he tightened his grasp on the young outlaw's hair. "Shame. Still, I really enjoy this game as well…"

The screams could be heard even through the door at the far end of the corridor…

oOo

The guards lazily stopped the two seamstresses as they made their way into the castle, holding baskets of newly mended gowns for the Princeling's consort-to-be. Two sets of lusty eyes inspected them with interest: both were lean with blonde hair, one with it in thick braids, the other tucked under a neat white linen cap with wisps escaping. Both had similar faces and grey-blue eyes, though the cap-wearer was looking down a bit more-and had a far more impressive chest that her counterpart.

"Where are you pretty girls hurrying to?" a burly guard with a major skin problem and partly-crossed eyes leered, his ample belly straining his stained uniform. Ruff rolled her eyes.

"We're delivering gowns from Mistress Dora the seamstress to the Lady Astrid," she said gruffly. She wasn't comfortable in sneaking into Berkingham Castle but she knew Hiccup needed her. Hiccup who had been understanding and kind. Hiccup who had rescued her from here. Hiccup who knew what they had put her through. Hiccup who had promised to always be here for her.

"And your friend?"

"Sister!"

"Oooh-you must be the pretty one!" the guards said easily. "Remember that I called you the pretty one," he added, leaning close to breathe the husky reminder in the cap-wearer's ear. Tuff lifted his head and offered a simpering smile.

"Fresh!" he squeaked in a falsetto. The man pinched his ass and he shrieked, slapping the man hard. The guard went down with a crash.

"Wow! You're a strong girl!" he commented, his head spinning.

"Get off my little sister!" Ruff snapped, balling her fists. Tuff scowled.

"Am not!

"Am too! You're half an hour younger than me!"

"Oh yeah…okay then…"

"She's a shy girl…" Ruff continued, seeing Tuff blowing kisses to the other guard and wiggling his hips suggestively. "And she would never…" Tuff was now making an obscene gesture and she rolled her eyes. "CUT THAT OUT! She would never…oh, never mind. Come away-Thora!" Tuff grinned at his sister.

"Fine-Ragnahilde!" he replied snakily, using her real name. She growled and slapped his shoulder. "OW! Butt-Elf, I'll…"

"I think the Lady Astrid is waiting!" she interrupted hurriedly and grabbed him, almost dragging him away. Both guards were blowing kisses and calling for trysts later in the day.

"What? After dinner! I'll be there!" Tuff yelled.

"No, you won't!" Ruff growled. "You're not a girl, 'sister'! And I told you that you'd overdone the padding!"

"Urgh-well why would I want to look like Mistress Flat-Chest over there!"

"At least these are real! When that guard gets his hands on them, you're dead!"

"Well I could always distract him with my…"

"You know, suddenly I begin to realise why Hiccup says 'Oh, gods!' as much as he does," the female twin sighed as she led her brother up towards the guest level and their only real contact. As they emerged from the stairwell, they were relieved to note that she was there, her usual calm demeanour at odds with her crushing anxiety. She started when she glimpsed them and hauled them into a small unoccupied room.

"What are you two doing here?" she hissed.

"Hey, Heather!" Tuff said. The young woman stared at him, her grey eyes widening in shock as her gaze lingered on his artificial 'chests'.

"He does realise that one is about a foot higher than the other?" she hissed to Ruff. The female twin gaped and burst out laughing. Tuff planted his fist on his hips.

"I don't see what is so funny!" he huffed, much on his dignity…until one of his 'chests' dropped out completely. He sighed, grabbed it and stuffed it back in place. "There-good as new!" Both girls rolled their eyes.

"Seriously…why are you here?" Heather hissed.

"I'd give you three guesses but one will suffice," Ruff sighed. Heather grimaced.

"He's too heavily guarded!" she told them urgently. "There are guards at the cell door and along the corridor. They fear that staff here will want to help him…and a few have murmured about the 'poor boy' but I doubt any of them would actually lift a finger in his defence. Alvin, Dagur and Spitelout have been torturing him really badly for some papers he stole. But also, I think, because they enjoy it. He hasn't given them anything yet…but I hear word that they have something big planned…something public because the staff are all being ordered to the yard."

"We gotta get him out!" Tuff said, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe my boyfriend…"

"No time," Heather told them. "Astrid has been escorted to the Royal Apartments to watch." The twins shared a glance.

"Look, if they try to kill him, we will have to try to save him!" Tuff said and his sister nodded. "Do you have any weapons?" Heather nodded.

"In my room," she admitted. "But you can't…" Ruff sighed.

"Believe me, he can," she said with a weary roll of the eyes. "I'm the girl…and he's the one irresistible to the guards!" Heather's mask cracked and she burst out laughing.

"Oh gods," she murmured. "Okay-follow me. We might just have time before we have to head to the yard…"

oOo

Hiccup had already learned not to bother to look up when they came for him in his cell: it only added a vague, futile hope he may be able to escape. He tensed as they grabbed him, his beaten body barely responding to his commands and he didn't resist as they dragged him out and down the hall, his one remaining leg struggling to get under him as he was hauled up the low flight of stairs and through the door into the main courtyard. His eyes popped wide in shock and he lifted his aching head: this didn't bode well.

It was a cold, grey day as he was forced to stand and his guards took a step back, leaving him swaying on his one foot. Then he heard steps and the servants, grooms, clerks, guards...even the drudges...filed out to line the walls of the yard. Every face was guarded, every eye wary. Then he heard a creak overhead and the door to the large balcony opened to allow Spitelout, Alvin, Snotlout and Astrid to emerge. He stared up into her face and saw defeat there. It made him feel worse.

"Behold-the traitor!" Spitelout announced, his arm gesturing towards the ragged, one-legged scarecrow swaying in the yard.

"Sorry-didn't catch that over laughing at your hypocrisy!" Hiccup shouted back. A guard immediately clouted him across his tender back and the blow pitched him to his face. He was cruelly hauled up by the hair.

"Hiccup Haddock has betrayed Berk, stolen your taxes, kidnapped children, threatened war by attacking the envoy of our ally, Drago the Dark..."

"Drago is a sworn enemy of King Stoick and Berk!" Hiccup shouted up. His guard slammed him to the floor again.

"But he is an ally of King Spitelout!" Alvin thundered. Hiccup was winced: he couldn't help it. He had accepted his life had been stolen and he had been driven from everything he knew but it hurt to hear Spitelout so boldly claim his father's throne and title.

"NO SUCH PERSON!" Hiccup shouted back. They hit him so hard this time that he saw stars and needed dragging to his feet. "Hey...doesn't this feel a bit...pointless to you?" he muttered to the guard. "I mean...knock me down, drag me up, knock me down again...why bother?" The guard threw him to the floor and kicked him and he groaned. "Not much of a thinker, then," he wheezed, painfully sitting up. He was hauled to his feet again.

"He must be punished," Alvin said chillingly and Hiccup stiffened. He wondered if they were just going to kill him now. They had to have something planned if they had summoned all the castle staff. But then Dagur walked into the yard, his men flanking him and holding hessian sacks. They pointedly poured the contents in front of the castle staff and Hiccup frowned. Piles of spoiled or rotten food, animal dung and general refuse laid strewn in front of the staff.

"So you have a choice," the Berserker announced. He gestured to the listing prisoner, his battered face alarmed. "You prove to your King that you uphold his law and degrade this wretched traitor..." There was a dramatic pause. "Or we kill five of you at random and triple taxes for the whole Kingdom. YOUR CHOICE!"

Hiccup stared at the man with an unhealthy mix of fear and hatred. He knew that Dagur wanted the servants to defy him, to give him the excuse he craved to wreak havoc across Berk, though he would accept the chance to carry through whatever horror they had planned for him. He swallowed nervously and his wide green eyes swept across the rows of people. He knew many because he had spent his time doing his duties like anyone else. He had never treated people with cruelty or arrogance or disdain. But throughout his life, he had been scorned as small, weak, privileged, pampered, lazy, worthless, hopeless…a runt and stain on Berk. He knew now what Dagur wanted to do and he wasn't sure his self-esteem would survive the experience. He swallowed once and tensed.

Dagur smiled and stooped forward, grabbing an object-a very rotten looking cabbage-and threw it hard at the listing Hiccup with a scream of "TRAITOR!"

Hiccup winced, the hard impact on his bruised chest painful as it impacted on his cracked ribs. He swayed. Vorg grabbed a hunk of rock-hard stale bread and hurled into into his face. He flinched, half-turning his head as he felt blood smear from the cut it had made on his cheek. Then he winced as one of the grooms grabbed another piece of rotten fruit and launched it at him. He closed his eyes as it impacted. Another of the grooms joined in, hitting his head with a runny tomato. He finched. An egg smashed on his chest and another slammed into his back. He flinched: he had a lot of sore whip-lashes there.

The grooms and guard began to really get into the assault, scooping up as much detritus as they could get their hands on and flinging it at the hunched shape of the former Prince. Hiccup felt himself shaking, his balance very unstable and the effort of staying upright draining his few remaining reserves.

"Why are yer 'oldin' back?" Alvin shouted at the servants who were still watching warily as another chunk of rotten meat slammed into the listing shape. "'E ain't yer Prince any more. 'E were planning ter kill the King and only Prince Spitelout stopped 'im! And since 'e escaped, this boy 'as made yer lives worse! 'E's caused yer raised taxes and the burnin' of villages. 'E's stolen kids and boats. 'E's killed men just doin' their duty to their King. And all for 'is own gains!"

"SHAME!" a guard roared. Hiccup flinched. He tried never to kill anyone during his heists…unless they were going to kill innocents and there was no other option. He stole one slight, pleading glance at the servants as the first one grasped a handful of dung and threw it straight at him. He cringed, raising his hands slightly to try to fend off the assault. But more and more of the servants-people he had always treated with respect-began throwing rotten food and dung at him.

And they began to shout as well.

"Traitor!"

"Coward!"

"Thief!"

"Outlaw!"

"How could you kidnap those kids? You bastard!"

Hiccup flinched at the last shout, the hatred in the woman's voice poisonous. Hiccup caught her face: she was a woman he had argued with years earlier when she had wanted Heather and Gustav thrown onto the streets. He shook his head.

"I freed them!" he protested, his voice drowned by the furious shouts. Dagur hefted another cabbage into his face and he went down, breathing hard and slowly pushing himself up using his hands and knees until he regained his shaky foot.

"You're a disgrace to our land!"

"Warmonger!"

"Give us back our taxes!"

He tried to shield his face as they really began flinging dung at him and he saw Heather and Gustav exchange glances. They were the only ones not shouting or flinging rotten food at him. The young boy stared into Hiccup's desolate eyes and the young outlaw gave a small, single nod. Gustav gulped, then grasped a rotten fruit and hefted it at Hiccup. It missed. Heather did the same and mouthed obscenities at him, though they booth looked pale. Hiccup went down again, the repeated impacts slamming what little strength he had left. His head down, trying desperately to ignore the rising storm of insults, he struggled to breathe and fight the rising despair that welled in his chest. But they were all words he knew too well, insults he had endured for years until his hard work had earned him a measure of respect.

Respect that had spectacularly shattered. Worth that had been completely removed.

"Fishbone!"

"Runt!"

"Coward!"

"Traitor!"

"You caused this!"

"Your father would be ashamed!"

"You disgrace your line!"

"You are the worst Prince ever to stain our land!"

"Your father should have drowned you at birth!"

Astrid looked down and saw Hiccup cringe at the words, his utter desolation evident on his bruised face. She knew he had always struggled to please his father and the hateful words only shredded what little confidence he had left. She watched him go down again and get up painfully for a third time. The shouts were so loud now that individual words weren't audible any more-just a torrent of abuse directed at the bowed and sagging shape. Her breathing grew ragged and she felt her eyes burn at the sight of his public humiliation and degradation. Snotlout grabbed her arm.

"See how pathetic he is!" he sneered. "How could you imagine that could ever rival me? That pathetic fishbone. He can't even stand!" He grabbed an apple from his father and flung it with all his might at Hiccup. They watched the fruit slam into the side of his head, the impact knocking him sideways and slamming him to the ground once more. Astrid gasped as he lay prone on the ground, slowly curling up and burying his head in his arms, trying to hide from the unbearable taunts and the steady hail of detritus and filth that kept hitting his beaten shape.

"What a disgrace," Spitelout sneered.

"Boy looks broken now," Alvin noted cruelly. "Maybe 'e'll be more 'elpful in gettin' our papers back now."

"More importantly, the people have rejected him," Dagur told him slowly, arriving on the balcony and watching the servants still screaming their rage at the helpless prisoner. "They started tentatively but as they went on, they believed what they were saying. They believed he was a disgrace and a coward and a traitor. And he knows it."

"Give 'em a few more minutes to keep on at 'im," Alvin ordered the Berserker. "Don't let 'em attack him though. We don't want 'im dead-yet." Astrid blinked and tears slid down her face at the huddled, tattered shape.

"Hiccup," she breathed. "I still believe in you!"

But all he heard were the words he feared-failure, disgrace, traitor, you shame your father-and as he curled helpless, almost battered and broken beyond words, he knew he had finally, utterly failed his father.


	13. ...Not Friendless

"I've seen enough," Ruff whispered and dragged her brother back from the crowd of servants still screaming abuse and throwing rubbish at Hiccup. Both the twins realised how terrible the punishment was, for Hiccup had done everything to be a decent and just human being. He had never been cruel or rude to anyone in the castle and always done as much for himself as he was allowed. When he had been viciously ambushed and his birthright stolen, he had remained on Berk when a sane man would have run for his life-but not Hiccup because he felt responsibility to the gruff people of Berk. He had done everything he could to undo the damage Spitelout and his cronies had wreaked on the innocent villagers, farmers and fishermen. He had restored stolen money, goods and children to frantic and desperate people. But none of that had mattered. The people of Berk tended to act like a herd and the fact he had been small, perceived as weak and a dubious Heir meant the people were willing to discard him if there was a better prospect on the cards. And for the servants in the castle, Spitelout seemed better: he had a strong son, he was stupid and easy to scam and he promised peace. So they had turned on Hiccup when he needed them most.

The twins sneaked up the back stairs and slid into the room they were seeking quickly, settling on the bed and idly tossing pillows around until the door opened and a straight and sad looking shape walked in, slamming and locking the door behind her. Astrid walked straight to the bench, kicked off her slippers and began to undo the laces on her bodice when Ruff cleared her throat to try to catch her attention. Astrid snapped up to her feet, spun and grasped at her axe.

"What are you two doing here?" she hissed.

"Trying to forget what we just saw," Tuff said quietly, his eyes focussed suddenly on her. "It looked like everyone turning on our fearless leader. And not one single person standing up for him."

"They hold all the cards," Astrid protested. "I am virtually a prisoner here. I'm not allowed to leave the castle now, all my possessions and wealth have been taken by the crown…even my ladies in waiting have been reassigned. And I am to marry Snotlout in just under three weeks." Ruff grabbed her braids and tugged on them, thinking hard.

"I guess they all think he's broken now," she said heavily. Astrid nodded.

"I saw his eyes," she admitted in a small voice. "He looked heart-broken. All he ever did was try to make his Dad proud-and they were shouting that he was a disgrace and a coward. All of them!" Ruff shared a look with her twin: he looked serious which was most unlike himself.

"But he's not," the male twin said suddenly. "We need Fishlegs and a couple of horses."

"You can't go out to get him…and neither can I!" Astrid protested. Ruff suddenly smiled.

"I think Hiccup may have mentioned once…that you have a dragon," she said. Astrid's eyes widened and she nodded. She had a small blue and yellow Terrible Terror-Sneaky-that Hiccup had helped her train as a young girl. There had only been one egg-they were very rare now-so he had given her the dragon without hesitation, though she had seen the longing and wistfulness in his expression as she had bonded with the little dragon. She had made sure the dragon was a friend to him as well and had used the little dragon to carry messages to him when they were kids, little notes that had heartened the miserable and bullied young Prince. Her best friend.

"She's a very well-trained dragon," she admitted and frowned. "Where do you want her to go?" Ruff tugged her braids again.

"The gang headquarters," she said. "We need Fishlegs. He can get in on his own. In fact, his arrival is crucial! And then we're springing Hiccup!"

oOo

Fishlegs walked anxiously through the Portcullis of Berkingham Castle, a huge basket of loaves on his shoulder. His mother had taught him to bake and she had helped him to make the loaves overnight. He had been freaked when the little Terrible Terror had literally appeared on his head, chittering and licking its eyeball in a very disconcerting way. After three of the others had helped dislodge the determined little dragon and Gobber had almost strained something laughing, Fishlegs and the old warrior had read the note from Astrid twice, frowning at the news. Hiccup needed rescuing and the twins had a plan.

Admittedly he was very nervous about going undercover into the castle on the basis of a twins plan but they had convinced Astrid and frankly, they had nothing else. So he took his basket of fresh loaves through to the guard room and dropped it off as instructed with a shy smile and invitation to enjoy before heading down to the stables and meeting Gustav, who was furiously grooming Stormfly. The husky blond former clerk squeezed into the stall and winked at the young lad.

"Thank Thor," Gustav said cheerily. "I thought you'd got lost!" Fishlegs gave a sigh.

"How is he?" he asked. Gustav's face shadowed.

"Don't ask," he said in a low voice. "Really bad. Look, they've done everything to him but it was when the staff turned on him…that broke him." Fishlegs shook his head.

"Oh, this is not good," he said in a squeaky voice. "They turned on him? Oh Thor…" Gustav shrugged.

"He kept getting up when they knocked him down, but they kept throwing things at him until he just lay there, curling up. And they still kept throwing and shouting at him. In the end, the guards broke it up and sent everyone back to their duties…but suddenly everyone was muttering how they never liked him and how he was a fraud and a coward and a traitor and a weak, runty fishbone disgrace…" Fishlegs shook his head.

"Gods," he murmured.

"And worse…they're saying it in the town as well," Gustav revealed. "Everyone now claims they always hated and mistrusted him. And that he is a traitor and deserves to die."

Fishlegs stared at the lad as he groomed the horse silently for a long moment. "He puts up a good act but he has always had doubts that he was good enough to lead the gang against Alvin." He sighed. "So what now…"

"Tah-dah!" Tuffnut announced and walked into the stall. Fishlegs' jaw dropped as the male twin grinned, wearing the pink gown with his chest seriously overstuffed as usual and a lacy white cap on his head. Ruff walked in behind him rolling her eyes.

"Yeah-Thora!" she sneered. Fishlegs eyed her up with much more appreciation and she balled her fist. "Whoa, lover boy!" she snapped. "Don't get used to this. I'm not a dress person!"

"Yeah," Tuff added. "I had to show her to work the petticoats!"

"He really did!" Ruff added with a grin. "Okay, sister-time to go and see your boyfriend. I think you need to give him a surprise!"

"Okay, Ragnahilde!" Tuff squeaked in an unconvincing falsetto. "Man, is he getting a surprise…" Fishlegs gaped.

"Wait…Tuff is going to 'see' one of the guards?" he said in a dazed voice. "Are you sure?"

"Wait-you didn't expect me to go?" Ruff asked him gruffly. Fishlegs eeped in shock.

"No!" he squeaked. "You wouldn't fool anyone. Even I don't believe you're a girl sometimes!" She sidled up to him.

"I must show you some day!" she purred and he gave a little shriek and scooted to cower behind Gustav and the horse. The boy was laughing uncontrollably and Ruff was almost falling over as she roared at his discomfort.

"Hiccup would love this," the lad giggled. That quieted everyone down instantly.

"Game face on, young Gustav!" Tuff said seriously. "We have a fearless leader to rescue!"

oOo

"Let me through to see the prisoner!"

The guard squinted at Astrid and leered appreciatively at her lithe figure, sheathed in a sky blue gown with a thin braided leather belt. He stared at her a moment longer than was discreet and then shook his head.

"Only royal family or senior commanders to see the prisoner!" he said gruffly. Astrid glared at him.

"And I am Lord Snotlout's betrothed and third in line to the throne in my own right!" she snapped. The man blinked. "So do you want to open the door now or should I go and interrupt my fiancé's lie-in. I'm sure he'll be very understanding…" The guard frowned. Everybody knew Snotlout rarely saw the morning side of noon and was incredibly cruel and vindictive when disturbed. Once he was finally up.

"I'm sorry, Lady Astrid-I was forgetting your status," he gabbled and he swiftly unlocked the door and Astrid walked past, inclining her head slightly.

"Thank you," she said coolly as she strode down the corridor and paused at the cell door. Since the Ceremony of Degradation, Alvin and Dagur had decided Hiccup was much less of a threat-and there was no threat of rescue by the servants now-so they had cut back on the guards. Mainly because they tended to find them sleeping anyway. The guard wordlessly let her in then withdrew to the far end of the corridor. Most of the visitors sent the guards away while they spoke to the prisoner and he knew only to return to the cell when the screams started-though that part was always the most enjoyable to watch anyway. He had heard the girl's reputation with an axe and wondered how she was going to torment the wretched traitor. He smirked. He could always have some fun with the outlaw himself a little later to find out…

Astrid waited until she heard the steps recede before peering into the gloomy, cold cell and seeing the huddled shape at the far side of the room. She sped forward and dropped to her knees by the ragged, filthy shape, a gasp escaping her lips.

"Hiccup?" she murmured. The ragged shape stirred very slightly, the filthy matted auburn hair hiding the face. He coughed.

"As-Astrid?" he rasped. She leaned forward, her hand stretching towards him-but he saw the motion and cringed back, his breathing hitching.

"Oh gods, Hiccup…what have they done?" she whispered.

"I'm sorry…" he murmured. "I couldn't…" And her heart froze in her chest.

"My father?" she asked in shock. He shook his head slightly.

"Safe…" he groaned. "But your home…gone…" She almost gave a hysterical laugh.

"Oh gods…Hiccup-a home can be rebuilt but you…" She swallowed and he breathed heavily in pain.

"I'm where I deserve," he said with quiet self-loathing, still refusing to meet her eye. She inched closer and leaned forward.

"Hiccup? Shh…it's okay. It's me," she soothed him and slowly, he lifted his battered face, his despondent green eyes frightened.

"I-I thought…" he murmured weakly and lifted his arms to cover his face but she snared his wrist and pulled him towards her. It hurt her badly that he stiffened and she could feel his breathing accelerate pitifully. Undeterred, she pulled him up against her, ignoring his filthy state-still smeared in rotten fruits and waste-and wrapped her arms around his gaunt shape. And suddenly, his lanky arms wrapped around her slim shape and she felt him press hard against her, his head burying in her shoulder. She felt his entire body shaking with silent sobs.

"Shh, I'm here now," she soothed him.

"Oh gods," he murmured. "I…I thought I would never s-see you…" Then he paused and lifted his head a little, trying to calm his breathing. The truth was that he had felt so alone, so rejected that the safety of Astrid's arms was like a dream. And though he never wanted to leave her embrace, he knew what he had to say. He knew he was worthless and doomed-she did not deserve his fate. "And what did I ask you?" he groaned, his hoarse voice muffled. She just continued stroking his hair. "If anything happens, pretend you don't know me. I will just harm you…like everyone else…"

"Hiccup, I'm not leaving you alone after…yesterday…" she told him and felt him burrow deeper into her shoulder. His skinny shape clung harder to her.

"I-I shouldn't be surprised," Hiccup breathed, a shudder running through him. "I was always a disappointment. I failed my Dad-twice. Once when I couldn't stop Spitelout stealing the throne and again when I have failed to protect Berk. I deserve this. I deserve it all." Astrid felt her eyes tear then and she hugged him fiercely.

"Hold on," she breathed, nuzzling his head. "I won't let this happen. We'll get you out...somehow..." His hands tightened around her and he sighed.

"Leave me," he murmured sadly. "Get away from him. Get away. I don't care what he does if you are safe. If you are happy." She grasped his head and forced him to lift his battered face. His bruises were horrible and the mischief and light in his forest green gaze had all but gone.

"The problem is-I think I can only be happy with you," she murmured and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. He groaned in guilt and misery as the door slammed open and guards walked in. The sergeant loomed over them and Astrid looked up, irritated. Hiccup pressed harder against her and she realised he knew what he was facing. It only redoubled her determination. "Leave. I am speaking with the prisoner!" she commanded.

"The Sheriff wants him," the bulky sergeant growled, his eyes glittering through the grille of his helmet. "He has a few questions that this traitor still refuses to answer. Maybe now he'll feel more talkative."

"Didn't yesterday afternoon," Hiccup muttered, wincing as he sat up straighter, his fingers lacing desperately with hers. Two of the guards swooped round and grabbed his arms fiercely, hauling him back from Astrid and roughly to his feet. He struggled. "And I still won't today."

"We'll see," the sergeant said gruffly and gestured to the door. Astrid tried to scramble up.

"Hiccup!" she called desperately as the outlaw was dragged down the corridor.

"It's okay, Astrid," he called with forced cheerfulness though he was clearly shaking with fear. "I'll try not to disappoint you as well." And with that, he was gone.

oOo

Fishlegs the baker struggled back through the main gate, his basket now laden with stores for tomorrow's bread load. The husky boy nervously allowed the guards to peer at the stacked flour sacks and the other ingredients for the bread they had all enjoyed earlier in the day and they waved him through cheerily. He gulped and walked steadily up the hill, not looking back or slowing until he reached the edge of the forest.

Until he heard shouts behind and saw a blond shape accelerating out on a horse, guards hot on his tail. Stormfly was clearly unhappy at the change of rider but Tuffnut had ridden her before and she responded to his direction as they skirted the castle and got ahead of the guards. Tuff gave a small smile as he leapt from the saddle and ducked behind the forge, before emerging as a fisherman, his nets slung over his shoulder as he ambled down towards the docks. The guards began to split up and try to find the horse-thief as another figure walked out of the castle, a basket of clothes for the seamstress under her arm. Ruff had to explain to the remaining guard that her 'sister' was still in the castle with a new friend but she would be back later. The disappointed man shrugged but allowed her to pass, hoping to that 'Thora' would come along soon.

Fishlegs smiled as he watched Ruffnut muttering darkly that the guards seemed far more attracted on her 'sister' than her-then he walked a bit further into the undergrowth on the forest's edge. He peered down the slope to the town and shifted his basket once more-then walked quietly through to the waiting Fury, Grumpy and Gobber then lowered the basket carefully to the ground.

"Yer got ''im then?" the old warrior asked. There was a movement and achingly, a grimy auburn head poked out from under the sack. Forest green eyes blinked owlishly at the sudden bright sunlight and he grimaced.

"What's left of me, old man," he rasped. Gobber gaped at his appearance and rushed forward, his face concerned. He and Fish helped the tightly folded outlaw out of the basket and both were horrified at his wounds-and his missing left leg. Hiccup tried to stand but his good leg was buckling though he managed the faintest of smiles. "It could be worse," he managed wearily. "I could've lost a hand as well!"

"Hiccup…laddie…" his mentor said in a stricken voice. "What have they done ter ye?" Hiccup tightened his arm around the older man's shoulder and sagged wearily.

"They want the Treaties," he rasped. "And they were willing to do anything to me to get them." His tone was incredibly weary, his body shaking with the effort of just staying upright. Gobber felt there was something more, some other problem. "They have Astrid there. She isn't allowed to leave and is engaged to be married to Snot. We have to…have to get her…"

And then he collapsed, his eyes closing and body sagging. Gobber swept him immediately up into strong arms and stared with real concern into the gaunt, battered face. Hiccup's breaths were too fast and his skin-where not bruised-was flushed. Gobber managed to adjust his real hand to rest briefly against the young man's forehead and he gave a sigh of worry.

"He's burning up," he murmured, his eyes staring with worry at Fishlegs. The husky former clerk nodded.

"He looks like he's not been fed, been horribly tortured and pelted in refuse!" he said worriedly. He swung up onto Fury and stretched down to take Hiccup into his arms. "The twins also said he had been subjected to something else that had completely broken him…" His face looked even more worried at that thought as he pulled the feverish Hiccup into a firmer grip in his arms just as Tuff and Ruff sprinted up. Hiccup moaned slightly but otherwise didn't stir.

"How is he?" Ruff asked quietly. Fishlegs shook his head.

"Not good," he said. "He's got a fever."

"He needs Gothi!" Gobber added. He mounted Grumpy swiftly. "You know where she is?" The twins nodded.

"THATAWAY!" they said in unison, pointing in opposite directions. Gobber rolled his eyes and wheeled Grumpy round to the correct direction (which was neither of those indicated by the twins).

"See you there!" Tuff grinned. "Now get our fearless tyrant off to the healer!"

oOo

"Course?"

"Still too far north, sire! The winds are not being kind to us!"

Stoick sighed and sent a small prayer to the gods to cut them a break, at least, before lending his weight and strength to the men trying to trim the sail and reduce their speed away from Berk. They were harried by ferocious gales that drove them further and further north and the seas were thick and slimy with surface ice crystals. If they went much further north, they would end up locked in the pack-ice and unable to return home.

"With me, boys!" he roared. And all the men put everything into their efforts, finally bringing the sail down and then allowing their oars to dip into the sea and gently curve their course east. The King joined his men, pulling using his enormous strength and regaining control of the little vessel. Then Lars, who was on lookout, gave a bellow.

"SHIP AHOY!"

They all peered in the direction he was pointing and every mouth dried. The ship was HUGE, an enormous vessel attached to an underwater creature by a thick chain from the prow. The Vikings instantly hunkered down in their stolen longboat, floating aimlessly as the fleet began to sweep past. The backwash sent them bobbing and Stoick felt as if they would be capsized. But he laid a hand on Hoark's arm, as the man made to grab the rudder.

"Be still as night," the King murmured. "So far, they think we are abandoned. Don't change their minds!" And he cricked his neck as he peered up himself at the enormous armada that was moving with purpose south. And then he saw the device on the sails and his throat dried.

Drago Bludvist, the Prince of Blood, was heading south.

To Berk.

"Hiccup," the King murmured in fear.


	14. Who Am I?

Dagur walked away from the execution wiping his sword, the hubbub of shocked guards echoing in his ears. The guards who had let their prisoner escape had been swiftly and efficiently dispatched. In fact, Dagur hadn't even bothered to pay the axeman: he had impaled the men on the block himself in front of their fellows. He was Deranged but he understood how to get his point across.

"Was she involved?" Eret asked the Berserker as he left the yard. Astrid had been locked in the cell and screaming to be let out and demanding what had been done to Hiccup. Dagur resheathed his sword and frowned, peering up at the solid shape of Snotlout, sitting on the balcony watching the execution and scoffing a leg of mutton.

"I think not," he admitted, his tone disappointed. "She was imprisoned in the cell and distressed at what had happened. She thought the boy was being tortured."

"I don't trust her," the Envoy said calculatingly. "She just appears a little too often wherever he is concerned. I'm not as stupid as Snotlout: the girl still has feelings for the outlaw."

"She's the only one," Dagur reminded him. "The people are falling over themselves to condemn him. There has been a petition from the town guild masters to Alvin as Sheriff to recapture and execute the boy as a public menace! When they would have been helping him before…" Eret gave a nasty grin.

"I won't be happy until I retrieve those Treaties…and have the boy screaming at my hand for his actions!" he growled. Dagur stiffened.

"But Hiccup is going to die at my hand!" he said in a deadly voice. Eret nodded in acquiescence.

"I'll torture him to the brink and then he's yours," he said. "Any idea where he is?" Dagur nodded.

"He's badly wounded," he said cruelly. "He'll need a healer. And there is only one who would still treat him. The trick is where to find her…"

oOo

Gothi was worried. The Elder of Berk, a tiny, hump-backed old woman with long grey braids and a vow of silence was the spiritual leader of the country and the best-though most elusive-healer. She lived in a lopsided cottage deep in the furthest reaches of Raven Point and kept to herself. Only a handful of people knew her location-including Stoick and Gobber. And she had been shocked and horrified when the gaunt, tortured and maimed shell of the outlaw had been delivered to her door.

Hiccup had been swiftly carried into her main room and a warm fire lit. Her little clawed hand had stroked the battered face and he had moaned very slightly, his skin scorching under her touch. Stripping the wretched rags from the prisoner, she had gasped at his horrible wounds and had immediately set to bathing his wounds, tenderly washing the filth and blood from his fever-wracked shape. Gobber had stayed, requesting the others wait outside, wishing to protect the boy he had helped raise from any more humiliation or scorn. On the way, the twins had explained very clearly what had happened in the castle and Gobber had realised instantly how devastating the ceremonial degrading would be to Hiccup, who had always lacked self-esteem. Captured, beaten, tortured and rejected, the old warrior wondered what Hiccup would wake up: the determined, sarcastic and brave outlaw or someone broken and destroyed by the torment he had survived.

Gothi had been horrified by the amputation, a clumsy and painful job that had disabled an active and agile young man. The stump was mildly infected but his other wounds caused her more concern. It was very obvious that Hiccup had been tortured savagely and he had a lot of wounds that she couldn't share with the others. So she treated him gently and carefully, ensuring every single wound and hurt was tended with every ounce of her skill. But all she could do with the fever was bathe him in cold water and try to give him water and potions to lower the scalding temperature burning him up.

She and Gobber spent hour after hour sponging his fever-wracked body, trying to cool him down. They packed icy water and cold damp cloths over him and sat at his side, never leaving him and soothing him. He had moaned in pain, whimpered through nightmares and begged his tormentors to kill him. Gobber had felt his heart wrench in sympathy for the young man. Hiccup hadn't asked for any of what had happened and he had done what had to be done, no matter the cost. So when the boy had whimpered and wept in his fever-fuelled nightmares, the old warrior had taken him in his arms and hugged him tightly, feeling the battered shape curl against him and seek solace in his embrace.

After three days, the fever broke and Hiccup had opened bleary eyes to a dim and warm room, the flickering light of the fire orange in his blurred vision. He blinked a few times and winced, his head aching and back still sore from the lash. Painfully, he had rolled onto his side, hissing against his other wounds…and then it came back. He hunched his shoulders and pressed a hand to his face as the loud snoring filtered into his scattered consciousness. He warily opened his eyes again and turned his neck until he could see the bulky shape of Gobber, sprawled in a chair, his mouth opened and rattling the windows with his sawing snore. With a wince, the young man squirmed an arm under his naked body and shoved himself into a sagging sitting position.

He instantly regretted it, his head spinning with the sudden change in position. He bowed his head and gritted his teeth, taking slow breaths against nausea. And his eyes fell on the lower half of his body, covered by a patchwork blanket. His right leg fidgeted but his left stopped below the knee-and then the blanket was flat. He shuddered and threw the blanket down, staring silently at the puckered and red wound, a poultice slathered all over the stump. His hand slowly slid down his leg, to the knee, down the shin…and then he stopped. He took a deep breath.

"Useless," he murmured.

Gobber suddenly sat up, his blue eyes landing on the scrawny shape bowed forward, inspecting his wound. "Laddie! Yer up!" he said with obvious relief. Hiccup cringed, grabbing the blanket and hauling it rapidly up to his bruised chest.

"Sorta," he said hoarsely, his voice parched from long days of fever and screaming at nightmares. The old warrior rocked to his feet and swiftly poured a cup of water, leaning forward to press the earthenware against his lips. Hiccup quietly grasped the cup for himself and drained the water thirstily, then offered it back. "Thanks, Gobber," he said slowly. Gobber refilled the cup and watched the boy, seeing the careful lean of his body away from the older man, the downwards cast of his eyes and rapid breathing.

"Hiccup? Are yer okay?" he asked worriedly. The young outlaw took a long drink of the water-he really was parched-then shook his head.

"You should have left me," he said quietly. "You shouldn't have risked yourselves for me. I'm not worth it." Gobber stared and scowled, slamming the earthenware pitcher harder than intended on the table. Hiccup started and dropped his cup, flinching and curling away. His hands were shaking hard and he stared at them ashamedly, refusing to meet his mentor's eyes. "I'm worthless. Useless. I should have been drowned at birth. I cause only destruction."

"Laddie-yer friends decided to rescue ye without any say from me!" he growled. "Do yer want ter tell them they wasted their time?" He shook his head.

"Why would they want to even see me?" he asked softly. "I mean-look at me! I've been beaten and whipped and now I'm down a leg. What use am I?"

"I'm down a leg and I don't see yer daring to tell me I'm useless!" Gobber growled. Hiccup flinched again.

"You're not. But I am," he said quietly. "I just need to get some clothes and a stick and I-I'll go. I don't want to put anyone in any danger…" Gobber's expression softened and he stared at the young man with real alarm. This wasn't the sarcastic, determined boy he knew.

"I'll give yer a few minutes…" he said and headed for the door-which slammed open as the twins and Fishlegs burst in.

"He's awake!" Tuffnut yelled, oblivious to the flinch and frightened hunch that Hiccup adopted as they erupted into the room. "Why didn't you tell us, Gobber?"

"He's only just woken," the old warrior growled as he saw the patient cringe back. "I didn't think he needed so many visitors at once…"

"But we're his friends!" Fishlegs protested. "You haven't let us see him at all since we brought him here and we were worried about him…" Hiccup was bowing his head, shaking it submissively and staring at the floor.

"Yeah-all he needs is some good company-and some Thorston madness-and he'll be back to normal in no time!"

"Tuff-even I doubt your pranks could make him grow back a leg!" Fishlegs pointed out.

"And what do you know, Fishman? There's very little than a Nut can't do…"

"Shut up. Both of you." Ruff's voice was stern. They all looked at her. "Leave. Now. I need a word with him. He's clearly tired and doesn't need your antics at the moment." She stared into Gobber's eyes. "You too," she said. Gobber frowned and then she gave a small nod. He stomped to the door, dragging the other two by the scruffs of their necks.

"Mind the hook!" Tuffnut protested as the metal scraped the back of his neck painfully. Ruffnut slammed the door behind them, then cautiously turned back to the cringing patient.

"Hicc?" she asked him gently. He stared at the bed but untensed slightly. "I think I know how you're feeling." His green eyes flicked up just for a second-and she saw the hollow, self-loathing expression in the forest green depths. He swallowed and nodded once.

"Thanks," he rasped. She sighed and took a wary step closer.

"You came to rescue me," she said to him softly. "I didn't have any friends. Why?" He inspected his hands carefully. They were still shaking. He clasped them together.

"I-I heard there was a girl in their clutches," he said very slowly, his hoarse voice reluctant. "I-I know that they don't treat prisoners well anyway. I knew you, Ruff. You wouldn't make life easy. I had to get you out." She stopped by the bed and perched on the small stool.

"So why wouldn't you expect us to come for you?" she asked him gently. "Our friend was captured trying to save a Lord and his household from being slaughtered. We knew you were suffering really badly. Tuff and I came to see what we could do." Hiccup sighed.

"You shouldn't have…" Ruff reached over and gently caught his hand.

"We saw," she told him softly. "We saw everything. Including Astrid weeping when she saw how badly you were treated." He swallowed and closed his eyes.

"I let her down," he murmured.

"She said 'I believe in you,'" she revealed to him. "She helped us rescue you-but she knew she had to stay…for now."

"I never deserved her," he sighed.

"That's not true," Ruff said to him. "None of it was. And though I know you are feeling so bad and so helpless and hopeless and worthless…because I feel those too…I know you will come through this. She needs you. We need you. I need you."

He looked up then, the green eyes wary and surprised. His bruised cheek twitched.

"Thought you didn't need anyone…" he breathed.

"Only my brothers," she told him softly. "My weedy, girly twin…and you." He gasped.

"That'll be news to my Dad…" he murmured ironically, briefly imagining his father having to deal with the twins' insanity. Ruff tightened her grasp on his hand.

"I'm here for you-whenever you need me," she assured him and pulled him into an awkward hug. But she felt him tighten his arms hard around her and he pressed close to the girl, his breathing ragged. She hugged him harder, knowing that he needed to feel some human comfort, that someone at least valued him. "We'll make this better," she promised.

oOo

Astrid was in Hel. Since Hiccup's escape, she had never been left alone. There was always a guard, watching her every moves, from her trips to the axe range to the time she spent in the stable with Stormfly and her groom. Snotlout had dropped all pretence of civility and was acting as if she was already her personal possession, commanding her brought to his presence for every activity, from his sword practice to his bouts gambling and roughhousing with his friends. She sat at the side, her body tense and fists rigid with anger.

And he was rude to her, commenting snidely on her figure, her choice of gowns, her hair style, her walk. He told her how worthless she was and how lucky she was to have him as a prospective husband when, as the daughter of a traitor, she should be condemned to servitude-or married off as a favour. He explained to her in graphic detail that Alvin had already expressed his interest and how rough that man was reported to be in bed. And he kissed and pawed her in the most unwelcome and intimate way until she needed to bathe after every encounter.

But at night, with the door locked, she lay alone in bed in her gown, the little pendant in her hand and her eyes closed, imagining Hiccup. Not as she had last seen him-beaten and broken and utterly desolate-but as the sarcastic, playful and fearless outlaw she had fallen in love with. She pressed her eyes closed.

Yes, she had fallen in love with him. He had been her best friend-friends forever and they knew their mothers had once dreamed of a wedding though that had died with the women and times had darkened. Hiccup had known his father would have sold him in an arranged marriage for an alliance and Astrid fully expected the same…but they had remained close and could trust each other under any circumstances.

But Hiccup hadn't called her when he was disgraced and outlawed. He had dealt with the scorching dishonour alone, the danger alone, the shame alone. And she had been angry when he robbed her…for about an hour. But then she had admired his bravado and his determination in pursuing what he needed to do as a protector of Berk, as well as his reckless and fearless daring and his imagination in outsmarting the Sheriff over and over. He had also determinedly courted her-very gently and respectfully but the kisses they had shared still drifted hotly through her dreams. But finally, his luck had run out. And so, it seemed, had hers.

She sat up. She knew that Drago's army was on the way, for Eret had been gloating with Snotlout earlier and though she knew Hiccup had been rescued, she had no idea if he was still alive. But she had heard the rumours as well: that Stoick had escaped and that he was heading home. He needed to be warned.

She thought about it the whole of the next day, as her wedding gown was fitted and refitted as she ripped an arm out angrily. She thought about it as she demolished every target in the axe range and stalked back to her room angrily, leaving her escort sprinting to keep up. And that night, after another unpleasant dinner with Snotlout, his father, Alvin and Dagur, she had locked her room, thrown the gown out of the window and kicked Snotlout's latest gift-a portrait of himself-to pieces. Feeling better, she had pulled a sleepy Sneaky out of her cage and had written a very densely worded note, before tying it firmly to her leg. She stared sternly into the little dragon's eyes.

"This is very important," she said to the little messenger. "Take this to Uncle Stoick. You understand? Find Stoick!"

She had watched the little dragon flap off into the night, vanishing into the light mists, completely unaware that unfriendly charcoal black eyes watched her long after the dragon had vanished.

oOo

Toothless had refused to leave Hiccup's side once he was allowed in, growling at anyone who suggested he should be banished from the sick room. The young outlaw had actually relaxed when he saw his wolf and had hugged the animal desperately, burying his gaunt face in the thick fur and feeling the rumble of his worry through him. Gothi had tended him carefully, forcing him to roll onto his front to salve his whipped back and the other wounds, the cuts and burns and bruises she hadn't shown to anyone. And she had managed to produce a loose green tunic and a pair of brownish leggings that were patched but did the job.

Hiccup was eager to get out of bed-well, to get out. He was feeling uncomfortable and unworthy and he hid from company, pretending to be asleep when he heard visitors arrive. Finally, when he was sure no one was around, he swung his leg over the side of the bed, hauled his boot on, wincing and hissing at the pain as he stretched his wounded back. He stared up at Toothless, who had inclined his head and was giving a confused little whimper. The wolf could tell his master was far from well and should be resting. But Hiccup reached for the crutch Gobber had made him and shoved himself to his feet. Unsteadily, he hobbled to the door, leaning heavily on his crutch. He crashed to the floor once but allowed Toothless to help him to his foot and made it to the door, cautiously opening it and limping out into the cool afternoon. He paused at the door, afraid. He could hear voices.

To his right there was a bonfire, chairs and benches resting by it. A boar was spitted and roasting over the flames and Gobber was talking thoughtfully to the straight shape of Lord Hofferson over mugs of mead. Both men started up as they saw the taut, skinny shape emerge and lean heavily on the wooden crutch and the Lord walked immediately over to him, laying a hand heavily on his shoulder. Hiccup flinched.

"I'm sorry you suffered so much," the Lord said bluntly, seeing the young outlaw bow his head and stare at the ground, his shoulders tense. "I owe you my life. Twice." Hiccup took a couple of slow breaths.

"I deserved it. I brought the destruction on you. You owe me nothing." His words were toneless, hopeless. Hofferson stared at him, his eyes narrowing.

"I think I owe you my allegiance, my Prince," he said sternly. Hiccup flinched and pulled away, shaking his head. His breathing was ragged.

"No!" he said quickly. "They took that. They took everything. And no one wanted me: they all rejected me. They all made it clear that I am nothing. Not a Prince. Not a man. Just a worthless, disgraced, outlaw traitor." Hofferson's face grew puce but he glared at the young man, then he sighed. He had no idea what to say: Hoffersons were all fearless. But Hiccup didn't seem to be any more.

"I am sorry you lost so much," the Lord said gruffly. "I wish your recovery is speedy." Then he turned and stalked away. Hiccup looked up, watching him retreat and seeing Gobber's worried expression, Toothless pressed against his leg, and he sighed, then turned away and limped down the small slope. He managed to get out of sight before he collapsed to his knees and slow sobs wracked his body. Toothless pressed against him, whining gently.

"I need to get away," he murmured brokenly. "All I can see, whenever I close my eyes, are their faces as they scream at me. Everything my Dad, everything they said when I was a boy was right…"

Footsteps approached and he stiffened but there was muttering and he bowed his head with a sigh. "Hi Ruff, hi Tuff," he sighed.

"I told you we should have been quieter!" Tuff hissed loudly but Ruff crouched down by the curled up outlaw.

"Hicc? What's up?" she asked gently. Tuff stared at her: he rarely saw his sister actually showing any sensitive side but he knew she had experienced some horrible experience during her captivity and that meant she could connect with their damaged leader. He hung back and waited. Hiccup stroked Toothless absently, his long fingers digging into the thick, black fur. He noted two of them looked swollen and twisted: they had been broken.

"I don't know what I am any more," he sighed. "Everything I was, everything I thought I was is gone. I thought I was doing this to protect Berk, to look after Dad's people…but they don't want that. They just…don't. They would rather see me broken or dead. So what is my purpose? Simple…I don't have one. I am Useless."

"Hicc? You aren't. You saved us all. You are our leader."

"Gobber would be much…"

"Crazier," Tuff murmured.

"Or Lord…"

"You're kidding, right?" Ruff asked him. "We're your gang. We live for your whacky plans and outrageous heists!"

"Don't forget the tyranny!" Tuff added. Hiccup felt his lips curl in the slightest of smiles.

"I am not a tyrant," he whispered.

"But you fight one," Ruff breathed. "Astrid believes in you. So do we. So we need you to believe in you as well." Hiccup tightened his arm around Toothless.

"I don't know what I am any more," he sighed. "I-I need some time…" The twins shared a look. They knew time was a luxury they didn't have.

"We'll get Fury if you promise not to do anything stupid," Tuff said.

"You know we'll follow you, right?" Ruff added. He nodded.

"I'll lose you," he said softly.

"You can try!" Tuff grinned.

oOo

They had helped him onto Fury and ensured he had his crutch, a bow and quiver of arrows, a sturdy sword on his hip and a flask of water and satchel of food. He glanced down on them, dull green eyes staring hollowly at the twins and Gobber, standing worried at the back.

"I'll be back!" he promised roughly.

"You better, laddie," Gobber said, staring at the skinny shape on the jet horse, the patched tunic and leggings unfamiliar. The auburn head dipped as they wheeled away and he cantered down the hill, the wolf loping along at his side. "As long as that wolf is with you, I won't worry…" He paused and squinted skywards. "Yer hear, Odin? Keep him safe!"

Hiccup accelerated down the hill, his aching body protesting at the strain of riding-but at least this wasn't something he needed his feet for. He just needed freedom, the space to think, to remind himself of who he was. What he had left. He ducked his head and kicked Fury faster until they were thundering down the hill and into the main body of the forest. Hiccup knew his friends would be following him but all he wanted was to be left alone. He closed his eyes. Actually, all he wanted was Astrid.

He felt his eyes burn with misery. All he wanted was Astrid. That brief moment in her arms had been the only minute he had felt safe since he had been so rudely awoken on that day his home and life had been stolen. But he was acutely aware he didn't deserve her: he was literally nothing- rejected by his people, declared outlaw, broken.

A scream sounded and he halted, his head snapping up and turning in the direction of the cry. Without thought, he kicked Fury in the direction of the cry as another sounded. He reached for his sword and leaned forward. "Easy, boy," he muttered to the horse as they leapt through the bracken and brambles and arrived in a clearing where a young blond girl and her father were surrounded by Alvin's men.

"…orders to kill all yer wretched traitors!" the patrol leader explained as his men closed on the scruffy man-clearly a forester-and his young daughter. Toothless growled loudly and the man turned to see the scrawny auburn-haired shape on the jet war-charger. "What the Helheim?" he swore. Hiccup gestured with his sword.

"Let. Them. Go!" he ground out through gritted teeth. Fury was pawing the ground in anger and Toothless's hackles were up.

"What have we here? A horse thief?" the patrol leader sneered.

"Why is it always a horse thief whenever we go out, boy?" Hiccup sighed. "Leave them alone. I think you want me." The guard gave a slow smile in shock.

"Oh, this is rich!" he scoffed. "You're the fled traitor? The defiled one? Hiccup, son of nothing?" The men grabbed the girl and pressed a sword to her neck, another holding a sword to her father's chest. The other four men ranged themselves facing the ragged rider. Hiccup paused and sheathed his sword, Toothless growling furiously. Slowly, achingly, he grasped the bow and aimed an arrow straight at the patrol leader.

"I may have been called that," he said quietly. "Or possibly not before. It doesn't matter. This is my forest. Let them go."

"Or what? There are six of us and one of you?"

The arrow buried in his neck and he gasped, the sword falling away from the girl's neck, The man threatening her father was next to fall and an arrow was already nocked as the men looked up in shock.

"Four," Hiccup said. One made for the girl and she shrieked, but Toothless leapt with a roar of rage and the man went down, screaming. The man next to him, who went to help his friend was cut down by the bow as well before Hiccup grabbed his sword, his bow still held in his right hand. He kicked Fury forward and the horse danced at the two remaining men. One lunged at him but he was swatted aside with the sword. The other stared up in shock-and fled.

Hiccup stared down, breathing hard, the sword falling from his shaking hand. His head swung round, looking for Toothless-and then he started. The wolf was licking the young girl and she was smiling…and her face stirred a memory. "Ingrid?" he murmured, recalling the young girl from the forest. She threw her arms around the wolf as her father grabbed an axe from one of the fallen men and gave a scream.

"Get away from the monster!" he shouted and the axe rose. Hiccup threw himself from the saddle to hit his man as the axe fell and a pitiful yelp sounded in the quiet forest.

"TOOTHLESS!"


	15. Uncovered

The impact knocked the breath from him and jarred his cracked ribs as he threw himself on the forester who had attacked his friend. He pinned the man under his lean shape and felt him struggling to get to his daughter. Without thinking, he punched the man in the face, rolling away and biting against the hiss of pain as he rolled onto his back and then onto his hands and knees and crawled desperately to the furry shape lying by the crying girl.

"Toothless," Hiccup whispered, seeing blood over the wolf's pelt. The ears flickered and luminous green eyes met his own. "Bud…I'm so sorry…" His fingers slid over the soft fur, the pitiful whimper sounding. Hiccup stared in shock, seeing a vicious axe wound across the animal's left hip. He swallowed: the tail was a mess, mangled and bleeding. With our hesitating, he rent the arm out of his tunic, uncaring who saw his horrible wounds and burns, and wrapped the cloth round the bleeding tail, half of which was already missing. He pulled the material tight as he heard sounds behind him and knew the man was getting up. Breathing hard, he tore the other arm out and bandaged the leg wound. Toothless was whining in pain and the young outlaw gently stroked him.

"Stand back!" the forester said. Hiccup swung his head up to stare into the hate-filled eyes of the man, the axe raised.

"No," he said calmly. The man took a half-step forward.

"I need to kill it."

"Why?" Hiccup asked quietly, his eyes searching the face for any coherent thought.

"It was attacking my daughter…"

"NO!" Hiccup said strongly. "He was licking her, greeting her…because he's met her before. I've seen Ingrid and saved her from some outlaws a while back…" The man stared at him.

"Ingrid?" The tone was icy. The girl stole a look at the battered man: she had recognised Hiccup instantly, the messy auburn hair, the stunning green eyes, the black wolf…this was the stranger who had so bravely saved her from the three outlaws. She nodded.

"Yes, Da. I was out gathering mushrooms when three men attacked me. He came running down he hill and fought them off with Toothless…" His father stared at her, then shook his head. He raised the axe.

"Stand back!" he commanded. Hiccup threw himself sideways, his leg slamming out and knocking the man down. The young outlaw rolled and grabbed the sword, then rolled back to his knees, parrying the axe blow at the whimpering wolf. Hiccup glared up at the man, his green eyes glittering.

"Walk away," the outlaw said sternly, breathing hard. "I don't want to hurt you because you have a young daughter to care for but I won't let you kill my best friend. So stand down." The forester gave a sneer.

"I should take you in too," the man threatened. "There's a healthy price on your head, boy! You're a one-legged traitor. You look pathetic. I'll kill the wolf and then I'll take you back to your death…" Hiccup shuddered and his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. Then he lifted his sword and his eyes fixed on the man's face.

"Try," he growled, his stance-even on his knees-that of a skilled swordsman. "Ingrid-step back. And pray for your father. Because if he touches Toothless once more, I will kill him." His tone was icy now, his entire body trembling with rage. The forester stared at him and backed off a step. He swallowed.

"The beast will die anyway…and there's money for the pelt…" he said with a trace of worry as Hiccup felt rage boil in his chest-he knew who had put a price on wolves: Dagur. Ingrid ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"No, Da…" she begged, her soft voice heart-breaking. "He just saved our lives and you repay him by attacking his friend and threatening him! Why?" The forester lowered his axe slightly.

"He's nothing," he told her and she stared at him in shock.

"Da-he's saved me twice. He walked me safely home. He's saved you and fought off all those men even when he's been badly wounded. He clearly isn't nothing: he's amazing! And you hurt Toothless!" He stared at her. "Let's go, Da…" she said pleadingly. "There may be more guards…" He nodded and took her hand, turning away from the kneeling outlaw without a word. But Ingrid turned back to him and smiled.

"Thanks," she said and then turned away and skipped alongside her father as they walked back into the trees. Hiccup slowly lowered his sword and stared at the wolf. Toothless was still whining but the bleeding had slowed right down, though the crude bandages were stained. He sighed and whistled through his teeth. Fury walked forward and Hiccup gestured. The stallion dropped to his knees, allowing the young man to lever himself up and drag Toothless over to lay him over the saddle. Then he grabbed his crutch and watched as the horse stood, carefully adjusting the wounded wolf. Wearily, he gathered his weapons then took the reins in one hand and jammed his crutch under his other arm. He sighed then headed back the way they had come. It would be a long walk.

oOo

The twins found him a solid hour later, when he felt as if he was going to collapse. Without a word, Tuff pulled him onto the nag he was riding while Ruff scrambled onto Fury by Toothless and nodded. They had sped back to Gothi's but the sagging Hiccup had insisted that the Healer check his friend first. Toothless had been frightened and in pain and had needed Hiccup holding him to calm him and allow the Elder to treat him. The deep cut in his hip had been sewn and the bloodloss staunched but they couldn't save his tail. So the wolf had been held down as the ragged remains had been amputated and sewn and Hiccup had felt his heart tear at his friend's pain.

The Elder had then commanded him to be treated as well and though he had resisted, the twins had refused to let him leave and he had reluctantly lain down as the old woman had carefully bathed and salved his wounds once more. She had treated his stump as well and scratched a series of symbols on the floor that he had learnt meant that he was now able to be fitted for a prosthesis. He had allowed her feed him a draught and he had fallen into an exhausted sleep with Toothless laid on a blanket by the fire. Gothi had smiled and explained Gobber that she needed to gather Sif's Herb for a paste to treat the wolf's tail before heading out on her own into the forest.

It was full night when Hiccup woke, aching and in pain but at least a little refreshed. He glanced across at Toothless: the wolf was still sleeping but the steady rise and fall of his flanks told then outlaw that his best friend was still alive. He found Gothi had left him another tunic-a rusty red-brown this time-and he dressed swiftly, then stubbornly got to his foot and made his way over to Toothless, his fingers running through the soft fur. The wolf stirred sightly and gave a slight whine. Hiccup smiled.

"I'm here, bud," he murmured. "I'll always be here for you…" Then he cautiously lay down and snuggled against the creature. Toothless wagged the tiny stump left of his tail as the young man closed his eyes and sleep claimed him once more.

oOo

Astrid heard the news first and stalked down to the stable to visit Stormfly-and Gustav. The boy was walking the mare up and down, talking gently to her but he looked up and grinned as he saw her.

"Lady Astrid…how are you today?" he asked. She sighed.

"Longing to be out on Stormy once more," she admitted. "I think she needs a nice long ride in the forest." She stroked the mare's velvet face gently and hugged her close. "I miss you too, girl-and I hope we can go out for a long ride soon…" She could hear her guard outside and sighed. Yeah, like that was going to be allowed!

"She misses you too," Gustav noted, fidgeting. He knew she wanted to give him some intelligence.

"It's an auspicious day," she told him. "Prince Spitelout has been able to set the date for his coronation…because they have finally found the Elder of Berk. She was taken last night and locked in the main dungeon. Apparently you can't crown a King without her…and that's not a problem now." Gustav forced an unconvincing smile onto his face.

"Wow-something to look forward to," he said. "Coronation feast, a festival day, your wedding to the new Prince…what more could you want?" They shared a look, both knowing the answer. She patted Stormfly one last time then turned away.

"Freedom," she sighed and headed back for her room to collect her axe. Suddenly, she felt like destroying something. Gustav watched her go them reached for the blanket and prepared to saddle the horse. He needed to get to the Cove.

Astrid walked thoughtfully up the stairs to the guest suites and the room that had become her home. It was quiet, as it often as during the day and she could hear her guard panting slightly behind her. She turned and gave him a cheery wave before opening the door and walking into her room.

And then she froze, walking slowly into the room. Eret was there, holding a struggling Sneaky, the little dragon biting at the Envoy. Astrid felt a surge of satisfaction at seeing blood on the man's hand. He held a small piece of parchment up and her eyes widened. She felt nausea twist her stomach as the man's cold dark eyes swept over her. He flicked open the parchment.

"I was alarmed by your message. I will be home with all haste to deal with the traitors. Thank you for your loyalty, Astrid-Stoick the Vast, King of Berk," he read. She backed away. "That's treason." He nodded to the guards flanking him. "Arrest her!"

She gave a scream and grabbed her axe, taking out the nearest man in one deadly swing. She ducked and spun, slamming her boot into Eret's midriff and watching with satisfaction as he doubled up, releasing the Terrible Terror. "Sneaky! Find Hiccup! Go to Hiccup!" she shouted and crashed the flat of her axe across Eret's face, knocking him senseless. The next guard was dealt the same treatment and then she sprinted to the window to the balcony, smashing it with her axe and leaping through, the little dragon flittering above her head as she launched from the first floor and fell the dozen or so feet to the yard below. With a chitter, the dragon whipped up into the sky and was gone. But Astrid was still running, her axe held tightly and her eyes focussed as she barged through anyone in her way. Another guard reared up and he met a swift end as she slammed past him, her eyes locked on the stables. People were now parting to let her through in fear of her axe. She was almost there…

…until a bola tangled her legs and she crashed to the floor. With a scream she rolled, the axe already slicing the ropes but a dozen guards were closing on her now and though she got into a fighting stance, her axe gleaming as she swiped and slashed, there were too many and they finally bore her to the ground, though six were put out of action before they could stop her. She felt ropes tie tight around her wrists and though she struggled, she was dragged up to face her captor.

"SNOTLOUT!" she spat. The stocky young man's face was looking particularly unpleasant-a mixture of triumph and cruelty.

"You know, I always knew you were still sweet on that wretched traitor of a cousin of mine," he sneered, "but I was prepared to let it go if you did your duty by me. If you were the wife I wanted-beautiful, submissive, good in bed-then I was going to let you live. But this…well, calling Uncle Stoick is treason!"

"WHY?" she snapped. "He is the RIGHTFUL King. And while you may try to accuse Hiccup of attempting to steal the throne and execute the Council on a whim, there is nothing you can hold against Stoick because he is the King. And that makes YOU the traitor, not me. HE'S COMING!"

He slapped her. "He'll never make it to Berkingham alive!" he swore. He stared at her and grasped her face, the red mark of his slap livid on her cheek. "You know, I saw you shiver in horror as we whipped Hiccup. I saw you cry as we disgraced and degraded him. But you never made a move until now. Why?"

"Because he was right," she growled. "Given a choice between marrying you and dying, I choose dying!"

"That's lucky," Snotlout sneered. "Because that's what's going to happen. Take her to the cells. We'll execute her at the coronation-as a bit of light relief!"

Gustav watched as she was dragged away, still struggling and cursing Snotlout with an incredibly imaginative selection of words. He ducked into the stable, grabbing the reins and hauling the horse out, walking calmly through the crowds as he did every day, nodding to the guards as he did every day and then mounting Stormfly and trotting up the hill. But unlike every other day, as soon as he hit the edge of town, he accelerated to a gallop, heading directly for the Cove.

…unaware of triumphant eyes that followed him every step of the way…

oOo

Hiccup had gotten up at dawn and made his uneven way to the hamlet half a mile from Gothi's house where he had headed straight to the forge. His years as Gobber's apprentice in the weapons shop had equipped him well in his task-making himself a leg. He had thought about it carefully on the way and he had swiftly lit the fire and chosen his materials, working the leather for the cup for his stump as the fire reached the correct temperature. He sketched the design and then began his work.

Gobber came to find him after noon, carrying a snack and news. Hiccup was just fitting the last pivot in his design, a metal foot with a flat base for standing and running, a pivot and spring to allow balance and recoil and a fitted leather cup and straps to keep it on comfortably. The old warrior stared at him in shock at his imagination, skill and speed as he rolled up the empty leg below his left knee and eased the leather over the healing stump. He gave a grin that didn't quite mask his pain as he tightened the straps and then bravely pushed himself to his feet, taking a very unsteady step on the new prosthesis. He grinned, took another-and landed flat on his face.

"Ow," he whined and pushed himself up to his knees. "This may take some getting used to."

"Aye," Gobber told him, a reminiscent light in his eyes. "It does take time, laddie. You'll get there…" And he hauled Hiccup back to his feet. The young man gratefully grasped his crutch as he began to practice. Gobber handed over the lunch he had brought and Hiccup sat down with a grin, inviting his mentor to sit by him. Gobber watched him tear ravenously into the mutton and bread. Hiccup saw his expression.

"What's wrong, Gobber?" he asked between bites. The old warrior looked uncomfortable.

"You," he said. "I mean since yer woke almost a week ago, you've been scared of yer own shadow. You've been calling yersel' worthless and useless, not seein' anyone, hiding' away…but when yer came back yesterday, yer were more like yer old self…" Hiccup sighed and rubbed his face.

"I needed to remember who I was and whether there was any point in my existing," he sighed. "After the entire castle staff showed me that I was worthless and hated by them all, I felt there was nothing left. But…" He paused and rubbed his left knee, feeling twinges in his stump.

"Yes?"

"But when I was out, I found Alvin's men menacing a forester and his daughter. They were going to be killed. So I did what I usually did: I interfered. And I saved them, killing five. But the father saw Toothless as a threat and attacked him. I faced off against him-with a sword and one leg-and we survived." He stared at the floor. "He called me nothing. He threatened to turn me in. He was…horrible. But Toothless was at stake and then I realised that I am NOT useless. That I do have worth and skills that I can still use. And I realised then that it didn't matter what they felt, what they thought, because it is my duty to protect them-whether they appreciate that or not. I know my father loves me…and he will expect me to do what he would until he returns." He rubbed his face, the bruises almost gone.

"Laddie-they've got Gothi," Gobber said. The boy started and face-palmed.

"And with her, they can now conduct a legal coronation," he sighed. He stood. "Come on, old man-we need to get my horse and my best bud and head back to the gang. We need a plan to get her back-and end this."

oOo

By the time he had arrived in the Cove, Gustav had just arrived and was almost hysterical. Fishlegs saw the tall shape of Hiccup warily limp in, his crutch still under his arm but his bow over his back and a sword and a quiver on his hip. Gobber was lumbering along behind him and the outlaws stared-then began to cheer and whoop. The twins were whistling and Hiccup froze and blushed, then lowered his head slightly in embarrassment. He raised a hand to acknowledge the applause as they all came over to greet him, crowding around him and clapping him heartily.

"Good to have you back!" Fishlegs said cheerily and saw Hiccup cringe just a little from all the over-enthusiastic pats.

"Thanks, Fish-though I'll need the healer again if this carries on. ENOUGH!" His voice was stern enough to have them backing off a little and he offered a small grin to show he was grateful for their enthusiasm-just not the clapping on his scored shoulder and back. He looked up to meet Ruff's eyes and she managed to ask him 'Are you okay?' He nodded and pointed to the furry black shape limping alongside him. She smiled and pointed to her brother and winked.

"HICCUP! Thank the gods you're back!" Gustav said, running forward. "I've got terrible news. They've got Gothi…" Hiccup smiled and nodded.

"I know," he said but the boy shook his head.

"NO! It's much worse. They've arrested Astrid-for treason!" Hiccup went rigid and his eyes widened in horror.

"WHAT?"

"She managed to get a message to the King and he sent a reply," Gustav explained. "They found it. Snotlout said they would execute her on the coronation!"

"Snotlout!" Hiccup growled with hatred. "Okay. We have to get them both out of the castle before they can completely steal the Kingdom and sell it out to Drago." He looked at the twins. "Tuff-have you got anything explosive left?"

"One Zippleback canister though I may have little black powder left," he admitted.

"Gobber-is there anyone left on our side or has everyone joined the new King and his bunch of cronies?"

"Precious few, laddie," he reported. "We can see if Lord Hofferson has any men he can lend."

"Hicc…" Ruff piped up and held up a bundle: it was his leather armour, which she had stolen from the guardroom while waiting for 'Thora' to beat up her prospective 'boyfriend'. "You might need these…" The young outlaw grasped his armour with a small smile and nodded.

"Thanks, that may make me feel more like myself," he admitted.

"Um-Hiccup?" Fishlegs was looking nervous and Hiccup suddenly felt a weight on his head and claws digging into his scalp. He held his arm straight out from his body.

"Sneaky-perch!" he commanded and the little Terrible Terror instantly flew down and landed on his forearm. He shifted his crutch under his arm and managed to stroke the little dragon gently, its purr loud in the sudden silence. Few had ever seen a live dragon. "Hmm…no message…did Astrid send you to me?" The little dragon licked its eye and chirped. "Yeah, I know she's in trouble. We'll get her back. I promise." Then he looked up.

"Er, Hicc-why're you talking to a dragon?" Tuff asked warily.

"Because she needs reassuring?" Hiccup replied, still stroking the little dragon. It scrambled onto his shoulder and pressed affectionately against him. "And I helped Astrid raise and train her."

"He always gets all the cool toys!" Ruff complained. Suddenly, the dragon gave an alarmed squawk. Toothless began to growl and the gang became aware of the reverberation of hooves closing. Hiccup's eyes widened and he motioned the gang to take positions.

"They've found us," he murmured. Gustav flushed scarlet.

"They must have followed me!" he gasped. "I-I must have not been careful enough…" Hiccup took a few seconds to clasp the boy's shoulder reassuringly.

"Not your fault," he murmured gently, staring calmly into the ashamed eyes. "Get behind Gobber and Fish: they'll protect you. Everyone, don't let them get between you and the cave. That's our only way out. Positions!"

They all hunkered down behind rocks and hanging tree roots as the shapes of horsemen appeared at the lip of the Cove, their crossbows trained down on the little band huddling in shelter with only a rock wall and a shallow cave at their back. Dagur jumped from his horse and peered down. Hiccup grasped his bow tighter and nocked an arrow.

"Hello, brother!" the Berserker called, his face obscenely happy at seeing the young outlaw again. Hiccup shuddered and for a moment, the waves of hopelessness and self-doubt washed over him, making him want to curl up and just let them take him. But he heard Toothless growl and his knuckles whitened on his bow.

"Leave."

"Now that's hardly proper payment for the kind hospitality we've given you, Hiccup!" Dagur sneered. "Honestly, I can't wait to get you back to Berkingham and teach you some proper manners."

"This is your last chance, Dagur," Hiccup said quietly. "Leave."

"You screamed so beautifully when I tortured you," the Berserker sneered. "I can't wait to hear that again. What are you going to do, Hic-cup?" The last word was mocking.

Hiccup aimed the arrow and fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay-of course I wouldn't let Toothless die! Just because there are no singing Disney-type animals doesn't mean I'm totally heartless :)


	16. A Helpful Guest

Dagur screamed as the arrow slammed into his chest, the iron tip tearing his flesh. He collapsed backwards as the rest of the outlaws unleashed their weapons as well, a hail of arrows landing on the hunting party. At least five more men fell and there were other screams as well as the men behind them were hit by the flying arrows. Hiccup fired twice more then glanced at his gang.

"CAVE!" he shouted and saw Gustav sprint for safety, with Gobber and Fishlegs at his side. The rest of the gang took his advice and accelerated into the cave. Hiccup covered them then slowly tried to inch backwards-but he tripped over his new prosthetic foot and sprawled. And then he heard the zings and thunks of arrows flying behind him and he rolled over-to see the twins, Fishlegs-even Gustav-firing furiously to cover their leader as he crawled to safety. He grabbed his crutch and finally made it, grimacing as he grabbed his stump.

"Ow!" he hissed.

"Laddie-yer imagination and courage may be exactly as they were before ye got captured but yer not as agile and yer need tae remember that!" Gobber breathed as they huddled in the cave.

"Now what?" Gustav asked worriedly. Tuff grinned.

"We have surprises for them when they come down to get us," he said, then peered out. "What's taking so long? I want my explosions! Whoops." Hiccup levered himself to his feet and peered at the Cove: his hand automatically tightened around the bow and he gripped an arrow. He was breathing hard, his entire posture showing he was afraid. This was his plan but he kept seeing the last moments at Hofferson Hall. He closed his eyes.

"They're coming!" Gustav yelped and Toothless growled at Hiccup's side. The young outlaw leaned down and stroked the wolf, feeling his hackles raised.

"Shh, bud," he murmured. "We just need to be ready…" Then strong arms grabbed him and he found himself handed to the back of the cave and Gobber glared at him.

"No, laddie!" he growled. "We've barely patched ye back taegether and we're not having ye captured and hurt again." He handed Hiccup the cloth bag bulging with the Treaties. Hiccup stiffened, his eyes wide with shock. He stared at the old warrior.

"Gobber, I h-have to…" he murmured distantly.

"You have to get up top," Gobber told him gruffly. "You can't leap up like a mountain goat any more and we need you-and those-away. And you are far more dangerous with your bow from up high…" Hiccup swallowed, the stricken look in his eyes easing slightly. No leader liked hearing he was unfit to lead his men but he knew Gobber was making sense. Reluctantly, he slung his bow over his back along with the bag, grabbed his armour and crutch and wound his arm around the rope hanging down.

"Ready?" Fishlegs called down. Gobber nodded.

"Pull 'im up before the laddie comes up with some stupid excuse!" he called and Hiccup felt himself winched up. As soon as he reached to top of the very narrow gap, Fishlegs grabbed him and pulled him through. He landed on his knees and took a deep breath.

"Thanks, Fish," he murmured and shed everything except his bow and arrows and crawled to the lip of the Cove, peering through the bushes to pick out Dagur's assault party. The Berserker was lying on his back, the arrow sticking out of the centre of his chest and there were others sprawled as well. Three men were guarding the horses but the rest had headed down the steep cutting into the Cove. Hiccup smiled and picked an arrow. He drew his arm back, aimed and fired. One by one, the remaining men by the horses fell. Then he lit then nocked another arrow and covered the Cove.

Behind him, he heard Gobber grumbling as he was hauled up by Fishlegs, Asbjorn, Frode and Nils. The old warrior had been roped up as Hiccup had. Dagmar and Einur scrambled up and then Toothless was winched up, whining. Hiccup turned his head to the wolf and gave a little grin. Toothless ran to his side, his bandaged stub of a tail wagging furiously as Ruff appeared grinning. Hiccup turned to Gustav.

"Fetch Stormfly and Fury, please?" he asked the boy then glanced at the others. "And secure their horses." They nodded and quietly moved off, leaving Fish, Ruff and Gobber with the outlaw. He watched for the soldiers emerging into the Cove and pulled the bowstring a little further back as they started to emerge. There was only Tuff left in the cave now and Hiccup could hear him clambering up, talking to himself. The sergeant was wandering across the floor and the rest of the men emerged, swords and axes raised to butcher the trapped outlaws.

"It's a good thing we had another way out, fearless leader," Tuff grinned, arriving at his shoulder.

"Yeah-they don't look like they're very friendly," Ruff added. Hiccup's bowstring creaked.

"By the entrance, the blue stone?" he checked. Tuff nodded.

"Make my day," he said eagerly. Hiccup fired and the ground by the entrance erupted in an explosion that blew half a dozen soldiers off their feet. They roared and cast around for their attackers. Then they realised the passage to the cove was blocked. There was instant panic and Hiccup lowered his bow, hearing Tuffnut whooping in joy behind him. The soldiers looked around and saw the cave, racing in-and finding it empty. Then they panicked and raced back to the collapsed passage and started trying to dig themselves out.

"They may be busy for some time," Hiccup murmured, levering himself to his feet, finding the twins each offering him a hand to help him up. He turned to smile-when he heard a scream-and spun, almost falling. It was Gustav-and Dagur had a knife to his throat. The other outlaws had their knives and swords drawn but they were keeping their distance, unsure what to do to protect the hostage.

"Why won't you die?" Hiccup murmured in exasperation.

"Now let's try this again, Hiccup!" Dagur shouted. "Give yourself up to me and I'll let the boy live."

"He's lying…" Gobber growled. Hiccup nodded.

"Dagur, we both know that's yak dung!" the outlaw called. "Let the boy go!"

"Or what?" Dagur sneered, the arrow still sticking out of his chest. Blood had stained the armour around the wound and the arrow was bobbing every time he spoke. Hiccup knew the man didn't have much time-so he was infinitely dangerous. He had nothing to lose.

Hiccup didn't hesitate: he loaded an arrow, aimed and fired all in one blurred movement and Dagur gaped, his hand almost about to move-and then he jerked, the arms flinging wide. Gustav dived away as Dagur toppled backwards, the arrow buried deep in his throat. Hiccup sighed and began to walk slowly towards the young groom. Below them, the soldiers were frantically trying to get out of the Cove-but to no avail. Hiccup reached the horses and stroked Fury, whistling and watching the stallion drop to his knees to allow the injured outlaw to mount more easily. Toothless gave a whimper as he limped up and Hiccup smiled as Fury got back up. Gustav raced forward and grabbed his hand, his grey eyes shining.

"Th-thank you…" he gasped and Hiccup tightened his grasp on the boy.

"I promised to look out for you, Gustav," he said and pulled the boy up to sit behind him. "You can't go back either. They'll know you came here to warn me." The boy's arms tightened around his waist and Hiccup winced at the pressure on his back.

"What about my sister?" Gustav asked softly.

"Heather's smart," Hiccup told him determinedly. "She's never given them any cause to suspect her…"

"She helped your rescue," Gustav told him and Hiccup groaned, covering his face with his hand. This wasn't helping the swirling guilt he had for endangering his friends in rescuing him…and Astrid, who had put herself in harm's way for him. He closed his eyes and curled forward, his breathing ragged. Gustav tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hiccup? Are you okay?" he asked but the man shook his head wearily but forced himself to open his eyes. Gobber and Tuff had brought his armour and crutch and he took them carefully as he watched the outlaws mount the horses of the dead and trapped guards. Hiccup stole one last look at Dagur's body.

"Follow me," he said quietly and he wheeled round, headed past the corpse and into the forest.

oOo

Astrid stared at the door of her cell and wrapped her arms tighter around her legs. Her guard had been sneering as he had dropped in her cup of water and plate of slops. She had glared at him until he left and then she had collapsed in the corner, curled up tightly and hoping Hiccup would come for her. If he was still alive. She had been in on the plan, of course-but he had been so broken and so wounded that she had no idea if he had survived.

The door creaked open and the bulky shape of Alvin lumbered in, flanked by Eret, who was sporting a black eye that she had dealt him. She felt a small twinge of satisfaction at the sight and then turned her blue gaze back on the Sheriff. He leaned forward and looked at her.

"Feisty!" he decided. She swallowed at his stench and her hands tightened.

"And your point is?" she asked. His dark eyes swept over her.

"I could spare yer-if yer decide ter be me wife," he offered. "Yer look like yer could give a man a good time-if yer know what I mean…" She did and had no intention of agreeing.

"Er, no thanks," she said. "Death is far preferable." He swooped forward and grabbed her face and she felt herself lifted off the ground.

"Yer know no one will come ter 'elp yer?" he growled. "I could 'ave me way with yer, girl, and no one will care!" Her eyes hardened.

"Come near me like that, Alvin, and I'll rip it off!" she spat. He threw her to the floor.

"And I don't suppose yer know where the outlaws are?"

"They will have moved on," she reminded him. "They have a whole forest and a leader who knows it like the back of his hand!"

"The Treaties?" Eret asked. She sighed.

"I knew he had taken them-he showed me them before he escaped-but I have no clue where he's hidden them!" she replied spiritedly. Alvin sighed.

"And we want yer ter stand at the block and 'ave yer 'ead off-so we can't 'ave any fun with yer!" he sighed. "Still-only another day, girl, and then yer can get a front row seat at the coronation…before we execute yer!"

As the door slammed behind him, she buried her face in her knees and felt tears burn her eyes.

"Please come and get me, Hiccup," she sighed. "Please-I really need you now!"

oOo

"Hiccup? I have someone who needs to speak to you." Fishlegs's voice was wavering slightly more than usual but Hiccup was concentrating on trying to come up with any sort of a plan to break into a heavily-guarded and packed castle to rescue his girl and thwart the traitor.

"Kinda busy, Fish," he muttered. "Can't it wait?"

"Um…it could, it could…but probably shouldn't…" the husky former clerk squeaked. Hiccup looked up and scowled. In truth, he was exhausted. They had relocated to the Caves of Loki and he had sent Sneaky to Lord Hofferson with the news and a request for men to support an attack on Berkingham Castle. Sneaky had returned with no reply so he hadn't know what to make of that. And he was poring over maps of the castle and the town, trying to come up with anything that could give him an edge-because-gods knew!-he needed one. There were about eighteen outlaws against the Outcasts, the Berserkers, the Berk Guard and the people of Berkingham: they were hopelessly outnumbered. He leaned forward over the crude table, his lean shape once more in his leather armour, his sword at his hip and bow slung across his back, his metal prosthesis clicking slightly as he moved.

"Fishlegs," he said calmly, "I am trying to come up with a plan-any plan-to invade the castle of my birth to thwart my uncle who is just about to steal my father's throne and prevent Alvin the Treacherous from executing the girl I love. I am only coming out if whoever it is can definitely help."

"Definitely!" Fishlegs squeaked. Hiccup sighed, muttered under his breath and unsteadily limped out into the larger chamber, lit by a score of torches round the walls and froze. All the outlaws were standing back and even Gobber and Lord Hofferson were looking respectfully at a huge shape that was planted in the centre of the chamber, the torches highlighting flaming red hair and an enormous braided beard. Hiccup back-pedalled a step and gaped as the huge man turned to face him.

Stoick the Vast had returned.

And Hiccup found he couldn't move, couldn't say anything. He was acutely aware he looked scruffy, thin and beaten, was down one leg and living in a cave, having lost the kingdom in his father's absence. He felt his breath tighten in his chest and felt his heart plummet to his boot: he had failed his father so comprehensively that there was only one option. So he dropped to his knees and dropped his left hand flat onto the floor, his right placed flat over his heart and his head deeply bowed.

"My Liege," he said quietly.

All around him, the outlaws were mirroring his action, paying proper duty to his father-the rightful king. Stoick narrowed his eyes at the scrawny shape, picking fading bruises on the gaunt face and the sudden shock and fear in the bright green eyes that he knew so well. The leather armour was very scruffy and in need of repair and the father in him was screaming at him to find out why his only son was down one leg and shaking at the sight of his father. Toothless limped in, his tail reduced to a bandaged stub and sat, his mouth open in a smile and tongue out as he seemed to grin at the King. Stoick took a step forward.

"Rise!" he commanded but Hiccup remained on his knees, unwilling to rise, feeling unworthy of standing before his father. "Rise!" the King repeated but Hiccup stared down more obviously, clearly signalling his feelings of inadequacy. Stoick sighed: his son had always been stubborn so the King walked forward, grasped the boy by the shoulders and lifted him up as easily as a small child. "Son?" Stoick asked him. Hiccup finally raised his green eyes and his father read appalling shame and despair at having to face his father in such failure. "Hiccup?" the King asked as he closed his arms around the skinny shape. Hiccup wound his arms around the enormous shape and abruptly buried his face in his father's shoulder.

"Dad," he murmured, his breathing ragged. Stoick tightened his grip around his only child and hugged him fiercely. "I'm sorry..." The King squeezed him tighter and he groaned. "Dad...air!" he gasped and the huge man eased the grip on the bony shape. Hiccup raised his head and stared into his father's face warily. "Where were you, Dad? Why didn't you come home?" The King finally released him, though he kept a protective hand around the young outlaw's shoulders.

"I think we need to talk in private," he murmured. Hiccup swallowed and nodded. "Gobber, Hofferson-you too," the King added, steering them to Hiccup's chamber and the young outlaw turned his head.

"Fish, Ruff, Tuff-with me," he said, calling his most trusted friends. Gustav looked disappointed so Hiccup pulled away from his father and laid a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "Keep an eye on them, will you?" he asked with a wink and Gustav puffed up his chest in pride.

"Yes, sir!" he said as Hiccup limped unsteadily towards his father. Stoick led into the small cave and took the seat, with the others ranged around. Hiccup stood unsteadily with Toothless at his heel. The King took one look around them and said very softly:

"What the Helheim has been going on?"

Every eye turned to Hiccup and he felt his cheeks warm, then pulled his shoulders back and faced his failure.

"Spitelout had usurped the throne, murdered the council and declared me a traitor and an outlaw. He had signed Treaties with Alvin the Treacherous of Outcast, Dagur the Deranged of Berserk, the Grimborns of Hunters' Isle and Drago the Dark, the Prince of Blood. He has ceded most of the Kingdom to Drago, raised taxes, enslaved citizens and razed Scauldron Bay to the ground. And he has the Lady Astrid awaiting execution for treason."

There was silence and Stoick's fingers drummed loudly on the stone of the seat, his grey-green eyes inspecting the lean shape in front of him.

"I meant your leg, son," he said gruffly. Hiccup stared at the floor.

"Um...got crushed when I kinda saved Lord Hofferson from the roof collapsing in his own hall," he murmured. "He got me out so we're even and then I was captured by Dagur and they...well, they decided it couldn't be saved so they cut it off. Without anaesthetic. Um. Slowly. Just in case I fancied telling them anything. Sorry." Stoick stared at the bowed shape. Hiccup's eyes were downcast, his tone listless and he sounded defeated. The gaps between his words worried the King more.

"Dagur captured and tortured you?" he asked dangerously. Hiccup fiddled with his hands and fidgeted slightly.

"Um, yeah. B-but it's okay because I didn't tell them anything...and Dagur is dead now. I killed him when he found our camp. Hence..." He gestured vaguely with his arms. "New camp...surprise!" Stoick could see him shaking now and realised with shock that his brave, determined, clever son was traumatised by what he had been forced to endure. But before he could do anything, the twins moved forward and each took one of his arms. Ruff leaned close.

"You okay?" she whispered loudly. He shook his head.

"I don't deserve to be here," he mouthed and Tuff clouted his shoulder. He turned to the wolf.

"C'mon, T!" he urged the creature. "Cheer him up!" And Toothless immediately came to sit directly in front of the young outlaw, looking up with his piercing green eyes and offered his grin to his master. A shaking hand gently found the head and gentled the fur affectionately.

"It's okay, bud," he murmured. "I know I let Dad down. I know I'm just the disappointment I always have been..."

And then Stoick was on his feet, closing the distance between the two in a couple of long steps. He cupped Hiccup's chin in a gentle hand and forced the emerald gaze to meet his own. He gave a heavy sigh. "Oh son, I'm not disappointed," he told the young man. "I couldn't be prouder! If not for you, there would be no kingdom left at all! Lord Hofferson has been telling me how you have resisted them for the last eight months and have been saving villagers, returning taxes and freeing enslaved children. I also hear something about Treaties..." Hiccup flinched.

"Um, sorry," he said quietly. "I kinda stole the illegal Treaties he made and the letters Drago was sending to our treacherous nobles as proof against when you returned..." He gestured to the cloth bag, slumped against the wall and Stoick gaped at the leather rolls protecting the documents. A smile cracked his big face.

"That's my boy!" he boomed and Hiccup blinked in shock.

"D-dad?" he murmured. Stoick stared into the forest green eyes and sighed.

"I'm sorry I was away so long, son," he said gruffly. "I'm sorry I left you alone to cope with this. They never would have tried if I had been here. They never would have made you an outlaw or tormented you or maimed you had I been here. But I was following my own pride, believing I could rid the Archipelago of the pirates when the danger were far closer to home. And I only realised what a fool I was as I was locked in that Meathead cell…and I realised I should be at home with my boy. Nothing else mattered."

"D-dad?" Hiccup murmured. "You-you mean B-Berk?" Stoick stared into the gaunt face and shook his face.

"No-I needed to be with you, son…" Stoick told him and saw the uncertainty ease in the pale features. Hiccup gently wrapped his arms around his father and hugged him fiercely.

"I'm glad you're here, Dad," he admitted. Stoick gave a grin.

"And here I'll stay," he said warmly, hugged his son back. "But there is danger coming. Drago the Dark's Armada is on their way." he sighed. "We saw them up north. But though they were ahead of us, they had to travel east of Gronckle-Face Isle. They can't get through the Seastacks, the Needles, the Eastern chain of islands of Berk…while our boat could. And we are Vikings! We are supreme navigators! And nothing would stop me getting home to my son." Hiccup flushed.

"He landed on Scauldron Bay and my men alerted me," Hofferson admitted. "And soon as I found out who it was, I got him to my hidden lodge in the hills…an hour before I got your message via Sneaky. The King recognised the dragon immediately and ordered me not to let you know of his return. He wanted to see you in person."

"To apologise in person," Stoick added. Hiccup flushed again, embarrassed. He still felt he had let his father down badly. How could he ever explain that he had been utterly rejected by his people? That they had completely turned on him? It was a disgrace he could never live down, even if they won.

"No need, sire," Hiccup murmured despondently. "I failed you. I was to look after Berk in your absence. Instead, she was taken by traitors."

"But there is only hope because of you, son," Stock reminded him. "I am really very proud." After a long moment, he paused. "Now what's this about a girl you love?" Hiccup looked up, started and flushed bright red. He was completely aware of Lord Hofferson's eyes boring into his back. He closed his eyes.

"Astrid," he sighed. "She's in danger. They plan to execute her for treason after the coronation." Stoick slowly released him and saw the faint determined light in his eyes as they opened to face the wrath of the two fathers. Then he smiled at his son, seeing the same hunched posture he recognised from when the outlaw was a boy and he knew he had broken a rule and was facing a beating. But frankly, Stoick no longer cared. If Hiccup loved the girl and she loved him, he would give them his blessing…if they survived.

"Then we need a plan," he murmured and sat back in his seat. Hiccup frowned and looked at the two men facing him. He glanced at Fish and a little light returned to his green eyes.

"They liked you as a baker, right?" he murmured. Fishlegs nodded.

"If I do say it, my loaves were among the best ever delivered to the castle…" he said superiorly and Hiccup smiled.

"If this works, you can have a Royal Commission!" he promised to the amusement of his father. "Ruff-did you tell me that your brother is the one who has to fight off amorous guards?"

"Yeah-what's what about?" she moaned.

"Just my inner beauty…" her brother noted. She punched him.

"Lord Hofferson?" he asked. "Could you get hold of ale and mead and a cart? For you and Gobber?" The Lord looked at him in suspicion.

"What are you…?" he asked.

"We can't go in together," Hiccup said quietly, "but one by one…all with a valid reason…baker, seamstresses…brewers…priest…castle drudge…" The King looked at his son. "Priest, Dad. They'll want every one they can get to bless their treason! And the Priests of Odin have very concealing robes…" Stoick sighed. It was a good idea.

"You're the drudge?" he asked worriedly. Hiccup managed a faint smile.

"At least I look like one," he murmured. "They'll be dragging in as much labour as they can get…and I think Gustav has a concealed entrance for a few more of the men. Half can go in as peasants and the rest sneak in…with our weapons." He looked up, his eyes sparkling suddenly. "Watch for my signal, Dad. Then go on my mark."

The King stared at him and for a moment, Hiccup felt that he had horrendously overstepped the mark and stiffened but his father gave a sudden grin.

"Your show, son!" he said. Hiccup limped unsteadily to the map of castle and leaned over, his fingers tracing over the familiar outline.

"Right…twins…when you get in I want you here…" he began as the gang crowded around him.


	17. Coronation Day

Astrid was awake at dawn, having tried every stone, every bar and every bolt in the door to see if there was any chance of escape. But the guards came in threes and delivered her food and water without a word and she had come to the conclusion that she would either have to wrestle the axe from the executioner or be rescued. And she was really hoping it was the latter.

At dawn, the guards came in with Lady Heather, who was bearing a folded bolt of cloth, soft boots and a veil. All but one guard left and the woman glared at him until he turned around.

"You are commanded to change into this for your…engagement," she said in an apologetic tone. She shook the material out: it was the wedding dress. Astrid shook her head.

"Ragnarok will come first!" she spat. Heather leaned closer, hunkering down by Astrid, who was sitting cross-legged on the shelf that acted as a bed in the cell.

"This dress has been custom-made for you," she said in a low voice, her hand gently grasping Astrid's and running it over the boned bodice. "You will look beautiful. And if you are to go to Valhalla, Astrid, go in this dress…" Astrid's eyes widened and she nodded, rapidly pulling at the laces on her gown and sliding it down, then pulling on the beautiful cream silk gown, the lacework on the bodice and sleeves elegant and flattering. The gold belt hugged her slender waist and a sensible pair of calf-length white leather boots fitted her perfectly. Heather held up a mirror and helped the prisoner to fix her hair and pull the simple lace veil completely over her face. Then she nodded thanks and allowed the girl to go.

"May the gods protect you!" she called after her.

"And you!" Heather replied softly as the door slammed. Then Astrid gently felt down the front of her boned bodice-and pulled out a long, very sharp dagger. There was another she could feel in her left boot. Heather had given her the means to fight back…if Hiccup didn't make it…

oOo

By dawn, Berkingham Castle was already bedecked in the pennants of House Jorgensen and its allies-including Lords Mildew, Sven, Oddvar, Trygve and Arvid as well as the outsiders they had signed Treaties with-the Outcasts, the Berserkers, the Grimborns and, of course, Drago the Dark, Prince of Blood. As the doors at the gatehouse creaked open and the portcullis was raised, peasants were already crowding the get in, either to gain good places to see the festivities or in the hope of work for the day. The guards were alert, roughing up anyone looking as if they may be a sympathiser for the outlaws-or just anyone they fancied roughing up.

The limping, skinny drudge approached timidly, his head down. His clothes were patched and grubby, a ragged cloak tied around his shoulders and a crutch jammed under his left arm. His left foot was heavily bandaged and he was limping badly. The guard lifted his face with his mailed fist and saw gaunt features smeared with grime and anxious green eyes. A simple cap covered his head to keep him warm in the cool dawn.

"Yer think yer can do much, limpy?" the guards sneered. The thin drudge took an anxious breath.

"Please, sor, I'll do anythin'," he said plaintively. "I'm not afeared o' hard work…" The guard laughed cruelly.

"If yer don't work hard, Alvin will execute yer himself!" the guard scorned.

"Surely there must be summit oi can do?" the young drudge begged. The guard looked beyond the skinny shape to the large crowd and sighed: he was sure someone could use the desperate peasant-or have some fun torturing him, he really didn't mind.

"Try the stables master," he growled, waving the scrawny shape on. "There should be plenty of dung to clear up with all the visitors." The young drudge nodded in pitiful gratitude.

"Thank 'ee, sor! Odin bless 'ee!" he whimpered and limped forward, allowing the next person in. Limping slowly, Hiccup glanced over his shoulder as a familiar voice sounded.

"Hello, big boy! Remember me?"

"Thora! You bad girl! You never came to see me!"

"I had to hurry to Mistress Dora or I'd be in real trouble!" falsetto Tuffnut squeaked. Hiccup paused and peered over his shoulder. The guards were clustered around the male twin and he was simpering impressively.

"You feisty wench-you owe me a snuggle!" the guard insisted. Hiccup winced: he knew the quality of guards was somewhat dubious but now he was just confused. Tuffnut looked like…well, Tuffnut in a dress with an improbably overstuffed chest. He gaped as Tuffnut dealt the man a hefty clout to the shoulder, almost knocking him over and the man just gave a goofy look as he absently rubbed his shoulder.

"Fresh!" Tuffnut simpered. The guard grinned.

"Howzabout we have a little celebration once the coronation and the execution are done?" he suggested. Tuffnut blew him a kiss as Ruff rolled her eyes in disgust.

"It's a date!" he squeaked as Ruff shoved him forward and escorted him away before he got engaged. Hiccup felt a rough clout across his shoulder and he staggered.

"Move along, scum!" a guard sneered and he ducked his head submissively, limping away.

"Sorry, sor," he murmured and kept his head down as he headed for the stables. He knew they would give him some filthy and demeaning job which was exactly what he was looking for. So he was unsurprised and acted pitifully grateful as he was given a shovel and bucket and told to clean the yard of dung. He sighed, then limped out to scout the main yard and finalise his plan.

The castle was a whole load busier and more crowded and it was a full five pails of horse manure later that he noted Fishlegs walk in with his huge basket of fresh breads. The young clerk really was a good baker-he had treated the outlaws before he had headed down to the castle-and the guards cheerfully let him in, hoping to enjoy his wares once more. Frode and Nils wandered in together as fishermen, cheering the new King and laughing raucously. They weren't the only ones because Berkians loved a good party. He limped round the perimeter, seeing a yak kindly leave him a present and he sighed, nipping in to clean up. He nearly got hit by a whip as a rider swatted cruelly at him as he bent to his work.

"Filthy peasant!" a cold voice sneered. Hiccup ducked as he glanced up at a tall, powerful shape on a horse, his bald head and manicured tiny beard alien to Berk. But he did recognise the cold dark eyes and the man's uniform: Hunters.

"Don't waste your efforts, brother," a smaller but very similar man said icily and Hiccup stared at the floor in alarm. The Grimborns had arrived. Spitelout had summoned all his allies to his triumph…and Hiccup expected him to reinforce and extend his Treaties with the enemies of his father. He sighed. It was all or nothing now: he stopped this now or Berk was lost.

The guards were quicker to pass the wagon of mead and ale, barely glancing at the two older men who were driving the yaks. Hiccup groaned as both Barf and Belch left him more work and he limped past Gobber and Lord Hofferson in their loose homespun robes as they rolled forward to deliver their load. Behind them, a huge shape stood, clothed in the charcoal grey robes of the Priests of Odin. The huge raven on the tabard was black as night, the hood shadowed the face and the mask obscured his lower face. A patch covered his left eye in honour of the All-Father. A wide-brimmed hat perched atop the huge priest's head and a spear was clasped in his massive hand. The guard looked up in surprise: he had already admitted seven other priests but this impressive priest looked really intimidating. He gulped and waved the man through.

Hiccup smirked and grabbed his heavy pail, limping back towards the waste bin. He bowed his head as he limped past the guards and took the waste out to the midden, then ducked away and dived down the kitchen stairs, pulling his filthy cloak and tunic off and swilling his hands under the pump as he passed. He ducked into the shadows and pressed back against the stonework in the lower cellar, wiping his face with his sleeve and adjusting his leather armour. He stiffened as he heard footsteps and then Fishlegs easily wandered into the cellar, a bow, quiver and sword in his hands. Hiccup sagged.

"I thought you'd never get here," the outlaw sighed. Fishlegs sniffed then backed away. He handed the weapons over at arm's length.

"Um…not sure Lady Astrid will appreciate the stench either," he murmured. Hiccup rolled his eyes.

"Can't exactly take a bath now, Fish," he said evenly. "You ready?" The former clerk sighed.

"The twins are in position," he said and walked well behind Hiccup. The outlaw rolled his eyes and glanced back at him.

"Fish-why have you got a scarf across your face?"

"Disguise?"

"Oh gods…"

Hiccup led to the dungeons-he knew the way well, even though his stomach felt more and more uneasy and his chest felt tighter and tighter as they descended, passing guards slumped, slumbering at their posts. He flinched, for he could recall every second of his time here, times he had shared with no one. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to calm his breathing. He knew his hands were trembling and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself forward. Astrid needed him. So he headed down and made the securest cells-and Tuffnut already chatting up the guard on duty. He shook his head.

"How does he do it?" he murmured. Fishlegs make a choking sound. "And will you stop that!" he added irritably. This really wasn't how he planned on seeing Astrid again but he was out of options. Tuff looked up and grinned, then head-butted the guard. Ruff caught him and clouted him over the head with her knife. The man folded, unconscious. Hiccup limped up with a nod. "Good work!" he complimented them. They shared a look and backed off.

"Whoa, Hicc! Not exactly fragrant!" Tuff told him. The outlaw rolled his eyes.

"Which cell?" he demanded shortly.

"I'll lead!" Ruff offered, taking deep breaths through her mouth and walking swiftly ahead, past snoozing guards. The gang reached the final corridor and this time, Fish went ahead towards the only conscious guard, asking if he could find the bakery. The guard offered a mouthful of abuse before he was punched senseless. Fish looked down on the unconscious guard and looked shocked. Ruff clapped him on the shoulder. "Way to go, big boy!" she leered and he eeped and leapt back in shock. Then he managed a timid smile and Ruff tipped Hiccup a wink. The young outlaw paused, then approached the door, inserted the key and unlocked it. He cautiously pulled the door open…

…and a fist met his face. He stumbled back, gripping at his face and waving a hand in surrender. "ASTRID! It's ME!" he groaned and she lunged forward, her fist cocked and eyes flashing-until she recognised the bowed lanky shape with the messy auburn hair and wary forest green eyes. Suddenly, she lowered her fist and leapt at him, her arms hugging him fiercely and he wound his arms around her, feeling her bury her face in his neck. He held her tight and gave a little sigh of relief.

"Thank the gods you came," she murmured, then looked up at his haunted face. "Are you okay?" He swallowed and nodded.

"Better I'm here with you," he breathed then managed a smirk. "And much better now I'm in your arms, Milady." She grinned…and then sniffed. her grin faltered slightly and she stared up into his eyes. He suddenly looked ashamed. "Yeah…um…not the most pleasant disguise but…" She gave a bright smile.

"Let's get out of here, mister outlaw-and then we need to…"

"Have a bath?" Fish suggested from outside.

"Cut our noses off?" Tuff suggested.

"Both?" Ruff added.

"Get Gothi…" Hiccup cut in.

"Um…already on it…" Fish called and there was a pause.

Ruff poked her head round the door. "She's already gone!" she reported. Hiccup sighed and frowned…then his head snapped up.

"Then we go get her," he said quietly. "It's not like we don't know where she's gonna be…" His hand tightened on his sword and he strode to the door, checking the corridor and then moving swiftly back towards the main entrance. Astrid followed him and frowned, peering at the slumped guards.

"You do have a plan?" she asked him. He nodded.

"Of course," he told her with a small smile. She inspected him: he was still more subdued than she recalled, that little edge of confidence missing. And her mind treacherously flew back to that horrific hour in the courtyard, where the horribly wounded Hiccup was rejected by everyone he had tried to protect. She darted forward and found his hand. He paused and looked back to her, his eyes warming slightly.

"Stay behind me," he advised her gently. "I don't want to lose you, Milady-and you aren't armed yet…" She squeezed his hand.

"Then find me an axe," she told him and sighed.

"As you wish…" And he cautiously led the group to the stairs.

"Hiccup? Why are the guards all asleep?" she asked him pointedly: most were just snoring loudly at their posts, rather than being knocked out. He sighed.

"Um…we brought them some ale and mead…well, Thora did…and it was heavily laced with a couple of Gothi's sleeping powders…which seem to be very effective by the way…so…ta-da!" He gestured vaguely.

"THORA?"

"You called?" Tuff asked, winking.

"Don't ask. Just…don't…" Hiccup sighed. "Look, I don't understand it but it seems to work…" She smiled at him suddenly.

"That sort of goes for your entire gang," she commented. "But you know I have to go up on the dais for the coronation…" He stared at her.

"Um, we went to all this trouble to get you away..." he told her warily. She leaned forward and gently kissed him, his eyes closing briefly in ecstasy as her lips pressed against his, the pressure insistent and mesmerising. He opened them to stare at her in gratitude and she smiled as she pulled away.

"That's for rescuing me, mister outlaw...even if you smell like day old yak dung..." she teased him.

"I'll have you know that was fresh today..." he grumbled.

"But Snotlout, Dagur and Alvin will want me there...to see you defeated and them win...before he kills me..." He swallowed.

"Dagur won't be there," Hiccup said tonelessly. "I killed him to days ago when he found the hideout..." She stared at him and her hand found his, lacing her fingers with his and feeling the breaks still. She knew Dagur had been responsible for most of his worst tortures and had a long and brutal history with the young outlaw.

"It's okay, babe," she murmured. "So I only have Spitelout, Snotlout and Alvin to face..."

"I can't allow that!" he murmured. He saw the flash of her annoyance. "Look, your father would literally kill me if I let anything happen to you..."

"And so will I" she shot back. "I will come back from Valhalla to chop you up!" He swallowed.

"Your motivational skills are unmatched!" he sighed. "But I would be happier if someone else was in the dress and veil..." Astrid sighed and Tuff folded his arms.

"Hicc-that really isn't my colour..." he protested.

"And even Snotlout isn't that stupid!" Astrid reminded him. His expression challenged her. "Probably..." He sighed.

"Then we swap the guards who come to fetch you, Milady," he murmured, leaning close to her, handing her his dagger. "Feel free to use it on my cousin..." he added. She tucked it away and grinned.

"And where will you be, mister outlaw?" she asked. His face tightened in determination.

"Stopping them stealing my father's throne," he said.

oOo

Spitelout stared at his reflection as the servant adjusted the rich purple cloak over his shoulders and smiled. His tunic, hose and boots were all black trimmed with gold but the cloak of royal purple mirrored the colour of the Emperors of Rome. The Usurper had ordered the princely garment straight after he stole the throne but it had taken six months to arrive. In Berk, a former Viking Island, the King traditionally wore the crown and a huge bearskin cloak for coronations. Spitelout had stolen the crown and had another made for his son, the soon-to-be Prince to emphasise his rank. Hiccup had never worn any symbol of rank: Snotlout would probably wear his out.

"Is everything ready?" he asked. Alvin finished his mead with a belch.

"Crowds are 'ere, all eager ter cheer their new King," he said sarcastically.

"And the rest?"

"All the Lords who pledged themselves ter yer. Grimborns, me, Vorg fer the Berserkers, Eret fer Lord Drago and of course yer treacherous bitch Astrid!" he leered. "Are yer sure I can't...?"

"She is to die!" Spitelout insisted. "She betrayed me. And if anyone was to get her, it'd be my son!" Alvin scratched his beard.

"Shame ter waste such a pretty piece," he commented. "Still, I can always 'ave yer 'ostess, 'Eather. She'd warm a man on a cold night..."

"As you wish." Spitelout said dismissively, checking his reflection once more. "Call my son and fetch the traitor. It's time for me to finally claim my throne!"

oOo

Astrid walked along the corridor flanked by two Berk Guards, their faceplates concealing their faces. The larger was looking around nervously and the other gave a groan.

"Will you cut that out?" Ruff hissed. "You'll give us away!"

"I'm sorry!" Fishlegs squeaked. "I don't know how you are so calm…" She sighed.

"I was a guard on Berkingham Castle," she reminded him gruffly. "I know my way around here!" Astrid cast her a sideways look through her veil: Ruff was a tough girl and she could well believe that she had served in the Berk Guard. She certainly looked far more at ease in uniform that anywhere else. Fishlegs was clearly out of his depth and alarmed but he listened to Ruff and the guard subtly led them…until they came face to face with Savage and two Outcasts guards.

"What is she doing out of her cell?" Alvin's second in the Outcasts sneered. Ruff stiffened: she recognised that voice and her eyes widened.

"Our sergeant told us to get her out because time was wasting and no one came to fetch her," Fishlegs said casually, his former anxiety masked effectively. "No one wanted to anger the new King." Savage peered at them and reached for Astrid.

"I'll take her from here," he leered and Astrid balled her fists, her disgusted expression hidden behind the veil. Ruff beat him to it and laid a hand o the girl's shoulder.

"Sir, we will take her as well," she volunteered. "We both come from the north and we want to see the Lady Astrid on her final journey, sir…" Savage narrowed his eyes. He despised the Berkians but he preferred keeping his men ready to deal with the outlaws who were sure to attempt an attack at the coronation. He waved them on.

"Hurry up!" he growled. "It's time…"

Astrid allowed herself to be led along, her azure eyes sweeping over the decorations that defied the rightful King. Her fists tightened and she could feel Hiccup's dagger lying along her forearm along with Heather's in her boot and bodice. She was genuinely touched that he had insisted she take his knife: he knew she was an accomplished warrior and could look after herself given a chance but there was no way that he could give her an axe. But as she was led out into the packed courtyard, to the large platform decorated with red carpet, a throne for the new King, chairs for the other guests and-to one side-a block with an axe resting against it, she felt her chest tighten with anger. It was her axe! That bastard was going to kill her with her own axe!

The guards escorted her to her seat and stood behind her, silent but comforting. The courtyard was jam packed with people, many of then drunk and all raucous and cheering for the new King. There were guards posted on all gates and approaches as well as on the walls. Astrid swept her gaze over the crowd but she couldn't see Hiccup, Tuff, Gobber or her own father. So she turned her eyes back to the stage. Gothi stood centre stage, her face locked in a scowl. To the far side, there was a positive crowd of priests, including four for Odin, three for Thor, one for Loki and one for Freya. Astrid idly wondered if there would be a scrum or fight for who actually crowned the Usurper.

And then they arrived: the treacherous Lords earned her furious glares and the foreign enemies were all treated with disdain. Finally, Snotlout walked up onto the stage, bearing a cushion with the crowns on. And last of all, resplendent in his purple cloak was Spitelout, a solemn expression on his face that couldn't erase the triumph in his eyes. Finally.

"We are here to crown the King of Berk, Prince Spitelout, heir to the former King, who is dead!" Alvin announced to the crowd, who quietened. "He is here today before you, his subjects, to demonstrate his majesty and share his triumph with you!"

Gothi scowled and scripted on the carpet, tearing the cloth. Alvin, Spitelout and Snotlout didn't have a clue but Astrid had spent enough time with Hiccup and Stoick to learn the basics. And Gothi's words were stark:

You will never be King, traitor!

"The new King is blessed by the Elder of Berk…" Alvin announced and Gothi rolled her eyes in disgust. "…by the Priests of Berk…and ratified by the conclave of nobles…" Astrid stared at her axe and tried to calculate how she could get to it and kill Spitelout…

"STOP!" A familiar voice shouted and everyone looked around. Leaping from under the stage, Hiccup scrambled onto the platform and faced the party, aware of the murmurs that swept through the crowd. The hissed words of 'coward' and 'traitor' were audible. "You cannot crown this man-because he is not the rightful King. Stoick the Vast is not dead!"

There were gasps and the party all turned on him. The guards found it hard to shove their way through the throng to get to the outlaw as he stabbed a finger at Spitelout. "What do you mean, traitor?" Spitelout snarled.

"I mean I am here, brother-to reclaim my throne!" Stoick announced, throwing off his robes. His growl silenced the yard and there were hundreds of shocked and speechless faces, staring at him-save the handful who were handing out weapons and moving to their assigned places. The other priests standing by the newly revealed King all shared a look and leapt from the stage, racing for safety. Spitelout's mouth worked soundlessly at the enormous, armoured shape facing him and Snotlout backed away in shock. But Alvin stabbed a finger at the huge shape of the King.

"IMPOSTER! Kill him!" he roared. Hiccup glanced around-and then began to run, drawing his sword. There was the zing of an arrow-and the rip of the steel point tearing through flesh…


	18. The King of Berk

Hiccup's eyes widened in shock and fear as he saw the archer fire but his legs were already racing across the platform, throwing him forward towards his father. Stoick was the best King in Berk's history and Hiccup was his son and his subject: both of those would do anything to save his father. So he bit against the scream as the arrow ripped into his flesh and he fell against the King, his face scrunched up in pain. Stoick stared at him in shock and glared at Alvin, feeling his son struggle to his feet.

"I AM STOICK THE VAST!" the King roared and faced his people. "TREACHERY! TO YOUR KING! TO ARMS!" Hiccup slumped to his knees, grimacing and peering at his right arm, the arrow sticking right through the leather armour and skin and muscle. The pain was unbelievable and he felt himself feeling sick. He glanced up and saw the Lords who had sided with Spitelout inch closer to their choice and he realised with a sick feeling that they had fewer allies than his father realised. But there was murmuring in the crowd and there seemed to be a discussion.

"The King!" came a cry.

"Which one?" came the reply and Hiccup groaned. The people of Berkingham could be relied upon to be stupid at precisely the wrong moment. There were many enemies on the platform and his father was dangerously isolated-except for his useless son. And then he saw movement as Astrid lunged forward, snatching her axe from beside the block that was waiting for her and swinging with deadly rage, ensuring the executioner wouldn't kill anyone else. As the man flopped back off the stage, her guards sprang forward, shoulder-charging Mildew aside, grabbing Gothi and speeding to Hiccup's side. Astrid swiped angrily at Eret and he leapt back, missing her axe by a fraction as she stood in front of her King, her axe hefted angrily in her hands.

"STOICK THE VAST!" she shouted. "He has been crowned. He is alive! NO ONE ELSE is King of Berk! To the King!"

A lot of half-drunken faces grew thoughtful at the young woman's angry certainty.

"THE KING!" came the roar and the crowd surged forward.

"Sire-if yer wants ter live I suggest a tactical retreat!" Alvin shouted at Spitelout to see the man already leaping from the platform and sprinting for the main castle, his son a pace behind. "Eh, I knew they had a yeller streak," the Outcast growled and leapt after them, with Savage and Vorg at his back. The Grimborns followed with the handful of Berserk and Outcast guards they had as Hiccup stood, grabbed his bow with a hiss of pain and loaded an arrow, staring up at the bowman on the gatehouse who was lining up another arrow on the King. He fired and the bowman jerked, his eyes widening and he fell from the gatehouse. Then, wearily, Hiccup leapt from the platform, his bad leg buckling and dumping him on his knees again. Fish landed by him and hauled him up as Stoick, Astrid and Ruff all landed by him before helping Gothi down.

"Stables," Hiccup said in a voice gruff with pain, staggering towards the block. "You know the plan!" They followed him, pulling him along and into the stables and bolting the doors. Outside, the shouts of the crowd and the sounds of fighting were starting. Hiccup staggered forward and dropped to his knees as Toothless streaked from the stall and flung himself against his master. "Hey, bud," he murmured, pressing his head against the wolf's. "Just a little tired, that's all." Toothless whined unhappily: he could smell blood which was worrying the wolf. Stoick stared at his son, then crouched by him, grabbing his arm and snapping the fletchings off the arrow before ripping it all the way through. Hiccup screamed at the sudden pain before Gothi jumped forward, helming the King unfasten his vambrace and peer at the ragged wound.

"Hiccup?" Astrid asked as she took his other hand, seeing his face white with pain as the Elder probed the wound. He nodded, his throat working against a sudden surge of nausea.

"Glad you're safe, Milady," he murmured and then his bloodless lips lifted in a smile. "And I see you found your axe!" She slid her fingers into his messy hair and gave a soft smile.

"No thanks to you, mister outlaw," she replied gently "I had to do all the work myself!" He cast her an amused glance.

"Hmm. Not that I would believe a Hofferson would actually need rescuing," he teased her.

"Not all of us can sneak in as drudges or seamstresses or ladies in waiting…or did you lose my dress?" she asked him. He winced as Gothi smoothed a sticky paste into the wound.

"Suited Tuff better than me," he admitted with a grin. "I'm more drudge material…" She leaned forward and pressed her lips tenderly against his, moving with urgency as his hand rose to clasp her hair and keep her close as he deepened the kiss. He flinched as Gothi finished her work binding the wound tightly and slowly pulled back. "Can't resist all this raw vikingness, eh?" he teased her. She was blushing.

"I have a thing for talking fishbones," she reminded him. "Auburn-haired, green eyed, one-legged talking fishbones. I may be a bit picky but I have found the perfect specimen…"

"Where is he? I'll kill him…" Hiccup smirked as she hugged him again.

"Don't do anything that stupid again, okay?" she whispered. "I thought I would lose you…and I couldn't do that!" He nuzzled against her neck.

"You know stupid is my middle name," he murmured.

"I thought it was Horrendous," she shot back.

"I thought it was 'reckless and stupid' or just 'trouble'!" Ruff added, grinning. Astrid felt Hiccup chuckle slightly against her.

"My father must have had a really bad day at my Naming," he said in a more relieved voice and felt Astrid brush her lips against his cheek.

"Maybe I should name any children," she whispered. His eyes popped wide and he kissed her neck sensuously. She hummed in pleasure.

"Was that a proposal?" he whispered.

"If I waited for you, I'd be an old maid," she told him teasingly. "I even have a wedding dress…"

"But…but…you're Lady Astrid Hofferson…while I'm just an outlaw and a traitor…dishonoured and a complete disappointment," he told her, his voice suddenly growing despondent. She grasped his face in both hands.

"And you're the man I love!" she told him. His eyes widened in shock. "Besides, I believe my father has been declared traitor, my ancestral lands stolen by Spitelout and I am essentially a woman without any land, money or protector. An outlaw and a traitor is a good offer for me!"

"Milady, I am so sorry," he murmured. "It's my fault…"

"Don't kid yourself," she reminded him. "I chose to help you and defy them. I chose you. You are my best friend…"

"Friends forever," he murmured and ghosted a kiss over her cheek. "But even so, I can't see your father approving a marriage to me. I mean…look at me…"

"I see the man who warned me of a treacherous attack and saved my life!" Lord Hofferson announced, closing.

"And I see my brave and loyal son who has done everything to preserve my rule," Stoick added. The two youngsters looked up and both froze: neither had realised their fathers were listening. Hiccup stared at the floor.

"Dad," he said quietly. "There is a problem." The King frowned. Hiccup stared at the floor, his wolf pressed against him. Astrid grasped his hand tightly. "I was publicly dishonoured. They made sure that no one will treat me as anything other than a pariah. The people turned on me, called me traitor and coward and disgrace, a shame to my line and to Berk. No one will accept me now, Dad. I have failed you." Stoick stared at him: Hiccup was right, it was a problem. But nothing was insurmountable.

"First we get the Kingdom back-and then we sort out your status, son," he said calmly. "Now…what next?" Hiccup sighed and his hand tightened around Astrid's.

"Gobber and his group should be securing the Gatehouse so we control the access," he said. "And we need to make sure the stables remain inaccessible so they can't make a break for it…"

"On it…" Gustav said, popping his head up from behind the stall. Hiccup frowned and beckoned him closer.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asked in a low voice. Gustav looked hurt.

"Hey…you told me I needed to listen more…" he protested. Hiccup sighed.

"Keep everyone out!" he said, levering himself up to his feet. "Spitelout will have run to the throne room. They'll be trying to escape or dig in and hope reinforcements will rescue them…"

"Drago…" Stoick murmured. Hiccup turned to Astrid.

"If you called Sneaky, would she come?" he asked. She nodded and gave a loud whistle. The little dragon poked her head from under the eaves and flittered down to perch on her friend's shoulder. The young Lady looked at her dragon and gave a small smile.

"What are you planning, mister outlaw?" she asked. The young outlaw drew his sword and headed out the back of the stables-to find Tuff, Nils, Frode, Hoark, Ack and six other outlaws waiting. He led them into the kitchens and through the servants entrances. He paused and glanced around his group.

"They will be in the main hall," he said. "There are two entrances: the main entrance-which will be barred and heavily guarded-and the servants entrance, which I doubt they know properly. They will bar the door and await rescue. We will going in via the servants' door…"

"I suspect Alvin may be more concerned with filling his pockets and running," Fishlegs suggested. "He may be able to be isolated and taken out first…" Hiccup nodded.

"You're with me-Ruff, Tuff, Nils, Astrid-we'll check his office and the treasury. The rest of you-to the servants' entrance but don't attack until I return and confirm they don't have back-up…" Stoick stared at his son and then nodded, sharing a look with Lord Hofferson.

"We can watch and ensure they don't try to get away," he said, "while we can thin their numbers on the way. And you and I need a few words as well, my Lord." Hofferson nodded brusquely.

"As you say, sire…" he said and then paused. "Where is the servants' entrance?" Hiccup grinned and winked to Asbjorn.

"Show them, will you?" he asked and the short, blonde man nodded and led the way. Hiccup turned to his little group. "With me," he said and they set out, taking the lower passages used by there servants. The ways were low and poorly lit but they led to all corners of the castle. Hiccup was grimacing, limping on his prosthesis and jumpy, even with Toothless at his side…but abruptly, he stopped by a small flight of stairs and they paused-then he scampered up and slowly leaned on the door, emerging into the quiet corridor. Hiccup warily advanced, almost reaching the office Gustav had told him Alvin occupied as Sheriff when he heard voices from within and glimpsed the two Outcast guards at the door. His hand grabbed Toothless automatically and dragged the wolf back.

"'Urry yerself up!" Alvin growled from within. "I ain't 'angin' around waitin' fer these idiots ter come and get us! We ain't exactly the flavour of the week, if yer gets me meanin'!"

"What do you want me to take, sir?" Savage's voice oozed.

"Everythin' yer can carry!" Alvin snarled. "I don't see Stoick exactly invitin' us back for tea and cakes and certainly not askin' us to take our pick of tax revenues! Spitelout won't deliver any more money for the assistance we've given 'im. After all, 'e's a weak-kneed spineless yeller-belly who'll roll over the moment 'is brother faces off against 'im. And Stoick will come-because the people loves 'im!" Hiccup waved his group back, his hand finding Astrid's to restrain her. He could see the fury on her face.

"Wait," he murmured. "Give them a moment to have their hands full, Milady…" She gave him a sharp look but reluctantly nodded. He winked to the twins. "And you two…can you set up a barricade that way?" He gestured. The twins shared a glance, grinned and raced off back down the stairs. Hiccup waited for another minute and slowly drew his sword as he heard the two men grunted, then kick the door open.

Alvin and Savage were heavily laden down with bags of coins and chests of loot with their guards also heavily laden and not really paying attention but the outlaws hung back as they staggered down the corridor towards the main entrance…until they found themselves facing an angry pair of yaks. Hiccup peeked round the corner and winced. "Why is it always yaks?" he asked himself with a groan. "And how do they always find the damned yaks?" Alvin opened his mouth to shout for guards but Barf and Belch charged him and scattered his ill-gotten gains while Sneaky flapped over and spat a small fireball at them, setting his beard on fire. The crash of gold and the tinkle of coins scattering was loud in the corridor. And then Hiccup lunged forward, his gang at his heels. He faced Alvin with his sword hovering over the man's chest and the wolf at his heels.

"Those look heavy, Al," he said breathlessly. "Maybe you should leave them when you go…" Alvin scowled at him as Savage found himself facing Astrid and Fishlegs.

"I'm not afraid of yer, 'Iccup!" he sneered. "I've seen yer, remember? I've seen yer screamin' and pleadin' and cryin', boy! I know how weak yer are!"

"And yet I'm not the one running for his life with a pocket full of stolen gold," Hiccup replied slowly, forcing back every memory the words stirred. "You can surrender, Al or you can fight." The huge Outcast rose to his feet and drew his sword, his face twisted into a nasty leer.

"I think I'll fight yer, little 'Iccup," he growled. "Yer can't 'ope ter best me!" Hiccup took a pace back and gave a grim smile.

"Probably not," he said quietly, "but I gave up on hope when you took every last thing from me. So I really truly have nothing left to lose, Al." He altered his balance and raised his sword, the stance and pose those of an expert swordsman and the big Outcast felt the first flutterings of unease. A slight flutter of the hand had the wolf backing away, his hackles raised and eyes locked on the Outcast: the moment he was called, Toothless would attack. But Alvin raised his sword and charged the skinny outlaw. Hiccup ducked and parried, hopping back and readjusting his balance as the big Outcast spun back to him quicker than he would have guessed and hammered at him in wild rage. Hiccup raised a solid defence, noting the man's strength but also his sloppy technique and limited stamina. Then he launched a swift and accurate attack, his blade marking the big Outcast's belly, neck and arm. Alvin roared and threw himself at the outlaw.

Savage lunged at Astrid, aiming to knock her sideways, yet she blocked his attack and spun away as Fishlegs raised his sword and blocked the next attack as Nils and the twins charged the two guards. The Outcast second-in-command leered at Astrid, still in her wedding gown, her veil thrown back and face tight with concentration. She blocked and slashed, eyeing the opponent furiously. Fishlegs kept battering him back until he was disarmed and slammed unconscious. Astrid tied his hands tightly and glanced up to see the twins fastening a preposterously complex lass around the two guards before she turned to look for their leader. Hiccup was being driven back by Alvin, backing up unsteadily on his prosthetic…until he found himself cornered. The big man laughed and raised his sword…as Hiccup dived forward, lithely spinning past his enemy. Astrid watched in shock as he rose to his feet unsteadily and drove the sword into Alvin's back in a lightning swift and accurate stroke. Alvin cried out and stumbled forward, his knees buckling as blood rapidly stained the back of his armoured tunic.

Hiccup stumbled back, his chest heaving at the exertion. He was watching the man stagger and half-turn, his face shocked. The twins were staring in astonishment. Both knew how badly Hiccup had been wounded while Alvin knew the exact measure of his torments, having ordered or watched most of them with a sadistic grin. There was no possibility the scrawny, one-legged, beaten, broken outlaw could have bested him. But Hiccup straightened up and lifted his chin as the outcast gave him a final disbelieving look.

"But yer…an 'Iccup…" he breathed. And then he pitched lifeless onto his face. Hiccup nodded.

"Yeah, been told that before," he murmured, staring at the dead Sheriff. "Never stopped me, though." And then his knees buckled and he almost fell, except Astrid caught him, her arms wrapping around him. He hugged her back desperately, his eyes screwed closed.

"It's okay," she whispered. "He's dead." His eyes snapped open.

"And we're still a small band of men, trapped in a castle with far higher numbers of soldiers…and I am not sure how many will rally to their true King," Hiccup murmured. He hugged her hard then slowly straightened up. "Let's go to join my father and end it."

Then sped along the underway, Hiccup looking very pale. Astrid was watching him worriedly. She knew he had barely recovered from his captivity and the strain of facing all his tormentors was stretching his nerves to their limits. Toothless was quiet at his side, running silently, his luminous green eyes scanning the taut face. Finally, they reached the back of the Great Hall and the gang looked up. Stoick's brows dipped as he saw his son. Hiccup nodded.

"Al won't be sending any reinforcements," he said tonelessly. The King nodded.

"There are over a dozen in there including Spitelout, Snotlout and Drago's Envoy," he reported. He looked at his group. They were evenly matched. Hiccup nodded and they readied themselves-then charged, bursting in at the back of the Hall. All eyes looked up in shock and the soldiers raised their weapons, preparing to fight. "SURRENDER!" Stoick roared at them and they ignored him, charging at the King. He and Lord Hofferson surged forward with the outlaws at their side. Hiccup saw Snotlout making a bee-line for Astrid and he moved towards him…to find his way barred by Eret. He raised his sword.

"I know you robbed me and disgraced me," the Envoy growled. "The least I can do is make your life short and painful!" Hiccup ghosted a smile.

"Too late," he replied. "You acted against the rightful King-why shouldn't I stop you?" The jet-eyed man lunged at Hiccup and the young outlaw knew he was in for a fight, for Eret was light on his feet, quick and had a good eye and strong wrist. They clashed strongly and Hiccup felt his arms jar at the ferocious impact. He backed off a pace and hoped he could fend him off.

Snotlout was circling Astrid, a nasty look on his face. "Well, this is awkward, Princess," he commented snidely, his axe twirling in his hand. "You rejected me for that one-legged traitor and we both know I can best you with an axe!"

"Do we?" she asked him pointedly, weighing her axe up. "I recall allowing you to win once I had studied your form." His face reddened and he gave a roar.

"You bitch!" he shouted. "Execution's too good for you!" She parried his blow and began her own measured attack, expertly driving him back.

"But not for you," she told him with a growl and launched a fierce attack.

Stoick and Hofferson found themselves facing the Grimborns, rulers of Hunters' Isle, a Tribe that specialised in hunting the very rare dragons that still lurked in the far north. It was rumoured they had close ties with Drago but had managed to avoid coming directly under his rule-for the moment. Both Ryker-the older and burlier-and Viggo-the younger, smarter and ruler-were accomplished warriors and both faced their older opponents with determination and ferocity.

Spitelout, meanwhile, was making a break for the back door-when he found himself facing the twins. The would-be King drew his sword and gestured angrily. "Out of my way, peasants!" he sneered. Tuff grabbed his pike tighter, his eyes hard.

"I'm sure you don't even remember, but when you stole the throne, you imprisoned all the guards who you thought might not be loyal to you," he said shortly. "Including my sister and I. Now, I managed to get out reasonably easily but you kept my sister here for a few more days…until Hiccup saved her. And in that time, she was very badly treated!"

"So?" Spitelout challenged him.

"Do you think we really need to take you alive?" Tuff asked him softly, charging him. Ruff blinked at his sudden focus. Sure, she knew he could focus-he had come up with much of the crazy plan to free Hiccup after all-but she hadn't realised how angry he was about what had happened to her. Even though he didn't know the details. An unfamiliar sensation-of pride in him-swelled in her chest as she attacked the nearest Berserker.

Astrid was matching Snotlout handily, his technique even sloppier than she remembered. She was careful, making sure she didn't trip over her impractical dress but her eye was sure as she parried and then changed to attack once more, this time furiously slamming Snotlout back and disarming him easily. He opened his mouth to protest when she swept the legs from under him and kicked him in the side before burying the edge of her axe deep into his thick neck.

"So much as squeak and Spitelout will be looking for a new son!" she spat. He took a slow breath.

"Joke's on you, Astrid," he breathed slowly. "Even if they win, I'm still the Heir. The people will never accept him now!" She stole a slight glance at Hiccup and saw him fighting hard against Drago's Envoy. "He's still lost!"

Sneaky and Toothless had decided to join in, the dragon buzzing enemies or spitting her not-so-cute fireballs into soldier's faces while the wolf just attacked and even the bravest man backed away and begged for mercy when a fully grown and ferocious wolf attacked them. Stoick's companions-all seasoned warriors-along with Fishlegs and the others rapidly cleaned up the stragglers, almost a full unit of Berserkers including Vorg, the acting leader of the Berserker contingent following Dagur's death, and then they secured the main door. Then they turned to the last few combats.

The Grimborns realised they were on the losing side and, as one, flung their swords down in surrender. Both dropped to one knee.

"We acknowledge your sovereignty," Viggo said shortly. "We were lured on the false presumption that you had perished. We are not allies-but we would not have actively sought to be your enemies. Stoick levelled his sword at them and narrowed his eyes.

"You may have achieved that in any case…unless you accept a new Treaty with me and Berk," he growled. The two shared a look.

"That…would be acceptable," Viggo sighed in resignation. This time, they had lost the advantage…but there would be other times…

Hiccup wasn't even aware that he was almost the last one fighting until he heard Toothless at his heels. Eret was driving him back and he didn't have the agility or the strength left to defeat the man. He groaned as a slice of the sword bit into his wounded arm and he winced. He staggered back, his stump jabbing white of shards of pain up his leg as he spun and parried, his skills developed over so many hours of practice serving him well against the larger and stronger Envoy.

"I'm gonna chop your other leg off!" Eret sneered and Hiccup swallowed. The Envoy had been there for the amputation, screaming questions in tandem with Dagur at the writhing, agonising prisoner and Hiccup dropped to a knee and avoided his wild slash.

"When?" he replied. "You've lost: your side is defeated, your candidate has been taken and your Treaty is void. If Drago wants war, then Berk will fight him. But there will be no easy invasion and Drago knows that if he is seen to attack one of the Kingdoms of the Archipelago, the rest will unite against him because they all know they could be next!"

"And you have ruined me!" Eret shouted, hacking at the kneeling outlaw. Hiccup felt his arms jar with the impacts. His right arm was seriously painful. "You robbed and humiliated me, you stole the Treaties from my room and you stole the taxes from under my nose!"

"I'm a busy guy," Hiccup replied, gritting his teeth. Eret's boot slammed into his side and tossed him sideways and he barely got his sword up to parry the axe but the backswing slammed his sword away. Another brutal kick slammed his side and he groaned and a third made him see stars. Helpless on his back, panting hard and staring up as the Envoy raised his axe, Hiccup swallowed once and closed his eyes…

…so he didn't see Sneaky zoom in with a furious squawk and slash her claws across his cheek. Eret bellowed and smashed at her with his axe but Toothless leapt to grab the weapon and the Envoy was knocked back a step, but he kicked the wolf away with a pained yelp. Eret gritted his teeth in a snarl as he loomed over the defenceless outlaw.

And then his eyes popped wide open and he froze, staggering forward a step. The axe dropped from nerveless fingers and Hiccup stared up into dark eyes that were shocked and uncomprehending. Then they closed and the man pitched forward, landing heavily on the supine outlaw, Astrid's axe buried deep in his back.

"That's mine!" she growled, "and no one is gonna kill him but me!" She wrenched the axe out of the body and Hiccup struggled to shove the dead weight off him.

"Thanks," he said genuinely, "though that doesn't entirely fill me with confidence!" She grabbed his hand and helped him to his feet, with Toothless whining against his leg and the others inspecting him carefully. She lunged at him and slammed an urgent kiss against his lips. He pulled her close and kissed her back hard.

"It should," she murmured, "because I'm never gonna let you go, mister outlaw."

Spitelout desperately parried Tuff's pike. The twin was backing him into a corner and he was using his sword and the crown-still clutched tightly in his hand-to fend him off with increasing desperation. Tuff's eyes were locked on him and he lifted his pike-and then a huge arm wrapped around Spitelout's neck , a sword biting into his throat. A big hand prised the crown from his grasp.

"I believe this is mine," Stoick growled as Spitelout's sword hit the floor. Tuff took a deep breath and nodded, his sister moving to his side and punching him hard in the arm. He grimaced but didn't make a sound, just nodding seriously at her as he backed away and lowered his weapon. Spitelout spun round, seeing his son taken, his allies captured or dead and his brother triumphant. He gulped.

"Brother," he said in a grudging voice, "I surrender to you, the rightful King of Berk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So Stoick is finally back in charge. Of course, it's not going to be quite that simple for our hero...
> 
> I was watching Shakespeare's Richard III while writing this and I had to go back and make sure it wasn't too dark!
> 
> In case anyone thinks this is implausible (REALLY?) remember it's the Robin Hood tradition that the hero takes the castle with about three men against an entire garrison who seem to be totally unable to fight! :)


	19. Prince or Outlaw?

The fighting had settled by the time they emerged. The guards on the door had surrendered readily to the King and his men and had resumed their duties without much protest. The Grimborns, Vorg and Savage had been taken to the cells and any surviving Outcasts and Berserkers had also been locked up. The dead had been removed as well and the King, flanked by his loyal comrades, his son and the outlaws, had returned to the platform in the yard. Spitelout and Snotlout were in chains and the King was grateful and relieved to see the familiar lopsided shape of Gobber waiting on the platform, throwing a very cheeky salute.

"The castle is secure, sire," he announced loudly for the benefit of the crowd, winking at his lifelong friend. "All those who failed to swear loyalty to you have been locked up or executed. All commanders have been imprisoned as a matter of course until we can determine their loyalties!"

"Good work, old friend," Stoick said and sat pointedly on the throne. He lifted the crown-then placed it back on his own head. His cold gaze swept over the crowd. "I'm back," he announced.

Cheers erupted from every throat-even those who had been cheering for the new King because most of them hadn't truly understood the situation. All had just accepted what they had been told by their leaders-and now, faced with their rightful King, the people of Berk-who were notoriously stubborn and traditional-stuck to their rightful King without hesitation. Stoick grinned and waved for them to be quiet.

"I know the Kingdom has faced hardships in my absence, manufactured by those who saw an opportunity to advance themselves at the expense of others-mainly you, my people," he announced. "But I have learned my lesson. My place is here, protecting Berk from the enemies within well as without. But we have lost many loyal subjects, my Council included as well as so many of you who have been murdered, starved or taken and sold into slavery. And I swear that I will do all in my power to make reparations for those wrongs. The destroyed villages will be rebuilt, homes and livestock restored and those stolen from you will be tracked down and returned-no matter how long it takes!"

He had to stop then because the cheers would have drowned out the entire castle exploding. The people went wild, abruptly reminded why they loved their King: stern but fair and just. He wasn't the easiest to slip low level scams or cheating past but he cared for all his people and they knew they could rely on him to protect him.

"The celebrations and free food will still continue today!" Stoick roared over the cacophony and the cheers got even louder. Free ale and mead were always welcome and the smells of roasting yaks and boars were seeping through the castle enticingly. He had to wait until they quietened down again before he could speak. He stood. "My brother has committed treason," he announced, a finger stabbing at Spitelout. "I have loved and supported him for years and he has repaid me in treachery. So he will of this hour, lose all titles, privileges, lands and possessions henceforth. He will be dishonoured and exiled from Berk. He is no longer a member of the Royal Family and has no claim on the Throne until the end of time. He is no one."

He waved his hand and Spitelout was taken away. The man wrestled against his guards as he was manhandled off the stage. "NO!" he shouted. "You can't do this! You can't make me live like a…peasant! Why don't you just kill me?" Stoick swept his eyes over his brother and his face was cold.

"Because that would be too kind," he said grimly. "You did far worse to my son. You tried to kill him, you had him at the block, you recaptured him and had him tortured and maimed. Why should I let you get away without any real punishment for your crimes? And every day you toil in grime and cold and hunger, you can remember what you had and what you threw away through greed and cruelty."

Then he turned his gaze to Snotlout. The young Lord gulped and he tried to look remorseful. "Uncle…sire…" he whined, "I didn't have anything to do with this. I swear!"

"And I believe you!" Stoick said in a growl, "because you are far too stupid to have planned anything as complex as usurping an entire Kingdom!" He paused. "But you will share in your father's fate because you did not oppose him. You fought against me just now, Snotlout. So you are still guilty of treason: you're just too stupid to have planned the whole thing! So you can be the good son one last time and share in your father's fate: your lands and honours are irrevocably removed and your are exiled forthwith!" He gestured and the younger Jorgensen was removed as well. Then he waved to Lars and a group of chained men were also brought up: the disloyal Lords. Mildew the Unpleasant, Sven the Silent, Reidar Pockface, Magne the Fat and Knut the Mad. All were looking angry, outraged and determined to deny any part in the whole business. "You, on the other hand, my Lords, are all very guilty of treachery!"

"Look 'ere, Stoick…yer can't prove nothin' against us!" Mildew sneered. "And anything yer little wretch of a son claims is a lie…" His voice choked to a halt as a huge hand closed around his throat. Mildew went puce and Gobber had to cough very loudly to remind the King not to strangle the irritating Lord in front of the crowd…not that anyone would have minded. Mildew's popularity was somewhat lower than a plague-ridden beggar.

"Don't mention my son," he groaned out through his teeth, flicking his gaze for a moment to the bowed and battered shape of the outlaw. "He, of all, of you recalled his duty to his land and his people! While you all signed agreements with Drago the Dark to hand your lands to him when Spitelout ceded the north to him!" There were gasps in the crowd. "Yes-my brother sold half the Kingdom to the Prince of Blood in exchange for his support. And these men sold the rest!" There were boos and shouts of 'traitor!' Stoick scowled at the men.

"Yer can't get rid o' us!" Mildew sneered. "Yer need nobles!" Stoick nodded.

"So I do," he announced. "But I don't need you in particular!" They gaped. "So I will take back your lands and honours and search through your blood relatives for those who are loyal to the crown. To take on your duties and carry them out for the best interests of Berk. None of you are fit to serve Berk any more. You have a choice between prison and exile."

"And what about yer blood relatives?" Mildew sneered. "Yer brother is a traitor, yer nephew a mutton-head and yer son dishonoured beyond all redemption!" Stoick stared at him in hatred. "So where is yer Heir gonna be? The fat-headed son of a traitor? Or some distant kin? Yer son cannot be redeemed-he was shamed and rejected by Berk. And the law is clear: he is irrevocably tainted!"

"You lie!" Stoick growled as Gobber and Lord Hofferson exchanged glances. It was an old law but one that still held-and the stiff-necked people of Berk clung to old traditions like limpets.

"What about yer all?" Mildew shouted. "Do yer want this one-legged runt, this coward and traitor as yer Heir?" And he jerked his head towards Hiccup. The emerald eyes flicked up to face him as there was a gasp…and then the words started again.

"Coward!"

"Outlaw."

"Traitor!"

"Shame!"

Stoick felt his blood boil as he swung his head back to see his son shiver and close his eyes. And then he turned and leapt from the stage, his legs carrying him as far from the excoriating words as he could. His head was down and Toothless was at his heels as he ran. The King saw Astrid turn-and her father grab her arm sharply.

"You have to stay," he hissed, restraining her with some difficulty.

"No! He needs me!" she protested. "Gods, he needs me!"

"My daughter, you have to stay," he reminded her determinedly. "Because I need you here and so does the King. We cannot help Hiccup is we don't finish this now!"

"But it's so wrong!" she whispered, her eyes shining. "He's given everything for them…and they still treat him like rubbish!" Hofferson nodded, his own eyes conveying his anger at the situation.

"That it is, my daughter…but if I know my friend, he will have a plan. And he will save his son."

But Snotlout's words came treacherously back to her as she turned her shining eyes back to the crowd and the vast shape of the King as he took back control of his Kingdom.

oOo

Hiccup had got as far as the stables and had dived into Fury's old stall before he felt tears streak his cheeks and his throat close with misery. He really should be too old to weep, too tough to allow the rejection of his entire people break his heart but he had always been a disappointment and now, as he curled up in the furthest corner of the stall, his knees clutched to his chest and his face buried in his knees, he just let himself sob at the complete rejection and worthlessness he felt. He really couldn't have done or given any more. He felt Toothless press against him, felt the wet tongue and worried whine of his best friend and tried to calm his breathing.

"It's okay, bud," he said haltingly, unwinding a hand to rub the wolf. "I'm just being pathetic. Hiccup the Useless, the worst son in the history of Berk's Royal Family. And the first one who's ever been disowned by the entire kingdom!" He palmed the tears off his cheeks and tried a very wan smile. "Guess it's just you and me now, bud. The others will all be pardoned and able to resume their lives…but I can't go back to being what I was. My lands have been given away, my honour shattered and my place…well, I can never be who I was." He swallowed. "No-no one will employ me…and what can I do? My only talents are for being a screw-up son and an outlaw…and not much call for either of those now. I-I guess it means I'll have to leave…though that will mean leaving Dad…and Astrid…oh, gods, I'll have to leave Astrid…" He closed his eyes again and took a deep, sighing breath.

"Hicc?" He stiffened. He knew the voice and it wasn't one he wanted to deal with right now. But the steps came closer and the owner dropped to his knees before the huddled outlaw. Hiccup sighed and forced himself to open his eyes.

"Hi, Gustav," he said wearily. He knew the boy meant well but Gustav could never properly understand.

"Wassup?" the younger boy asked. Hiccup stared at the ground and wrapped his arm around Toothless. He gave a shuddering sigh.

"Just a…complication," he said quietly. "Because of what happened here-when everyone publicly shamed and dishonoured me, I can't go back to being the King's son. They won't accept me. Not any more." Gustav frowned.

"But you are his son, aren't you?" he asked, puzzled. Hiccup nodded.

"In blood…but in law…no… not any more. What Spitelout and Alvin did removed every claim and right I possessed," he sighed. The younger boy frowned.

"That's stupid," he said. "You helped them all so much. Why don't they accept how much you've done for them?" Hiccup shrugged.

"It's the law," he said despondently. "And if I have no honour, I can't marry…" Gustav frowned.

"I told you that you should marry my sister," he said. "She won't mind! Look, you can stay with us here…" Hiccup closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Gustav-as fond as I am of you and Heather, I am only in love with Astrid," he told the boy quietly. "And staying here would be unbearable. Because I would see what I have lost every day. I would have to see Astrid and whoever she chooses to marry. And that would kill me, Gustav." He slowly levered himself to his feet. "I need to be alone. Please- give me some space. Just…this once…" And he slowly limped from the stables, leaving the boy watching him and Toothless depart.

oOo

"So the entire staff took part?" Stoick asked pointedly. Astrid nodded. "And did everyone throw things at him?"

"We didn't, sire," Ruff piped up. "And neither did Gustav or Heather. Not really."

"No I, sire," Astrid added, staring at the floor. "But I couldn't stop it either." The King sighed.

"I forgive you," he said heavily, "because I know that you were a prisoner. But what they did to my son…the rejection that he experienced and the people still cling to…it is a problem. My people are very stubborn and sadly, not very bright or able to think things through. They don't understand what they have done: he has been ceremonially dishonoured and disgraced and the old laws from the founding of our land state that no man without honour can be the King." Astrid blinked. She turned to her father.

"Dad?" she asked faintly. Her father squeezed her hand.

"The King is right, my daughter," he said. "We can be pardoned and so can the outlaws…but the dishonoured son of the King cannot be forgiven. He can only be allowed to leave with his dishonour."

"And can't he gain his honour back?" she asked him. He shook his head.

"Maybe in a generation or two…" Lord Hofferson said. "But though he did no crime, his utter dishonour removes Hiccup Haddock from every prospect he once had." She closed her eyes.

"But I love him," she whispered. He sighed and rested his hand heavily on her shoulder.

"You actually forget one thing, daughter," he said quietly. "With Hiccup and Snotlout out of the picture…you are the Heir to Berk…" She gaped.

"WHAT?" she exploded. "NO! I-I couldn't! That would be too cruel…stealing Hiccup's birthright when all he has ever done is work his ass off to try to make his father proud of him! And even when he was declared traitor and taken to the block, he escaped and stayed-when any right-thinking man would have run-and did whatever he could to oppose Spitelout…"

"As an outlaw, Stoick," Gobber reminded him with a wry smile. "And while Prince Hiccup may be lost, mebbe the Outlaw Night Fury can be rehabilitated?" Stoick frowned and he stared at the two-limbed warrior calculatingly.

"He's still the same person," Stoick reminded him.

"The funny thing about honour, as I see it," Gobber mused, "is that it is a pretty invisible and ephemeral thing. It attaches to a specific name…not always to a specific person. And it's totally illogical…so while the ancient rules are rigid, they can be circumvented. If yer want tae do it…" Stoick stared at his old friend.

"You have a plan?" he asked. Gobber grinned broadly.

"I'll need your help, my friend-as well as support from Lord Hofferson…"

"The lad saved my life," the Lord declared clearly. "He rode in on his own, warned us in time and fought like a demon to allow my staff to escape. He saved my life at the cost of his leg and covered my escape, knowing he would be captured and tortured. I will do everything in my power to help him regain what he has lost!"

"Even letting me marry him?" Astrid asked him softly. Her father stared at her carefully, his face concerned.

"Daughter-your new status as Heir to the Throne means you can have the choice of the eligible Heirs from the other Kingdoms," Lord Hofferson murmured. "You could marry any of a host of suitable bachelors…" Astrid's eyes widened and she stared from man to man before her face locked into her familiar stubborn scowl.

"I need a husband who has had extensive training in law and politics and all the tricks and skills a King would need," she commented and her eyes crinkled in amusement. "But I need one who has the interests of Berk at his heart rather than his own Kingdom. I need a man who loves and adores me. And I need a man I can trust and love and spend my life with. Especially if he manages to be an auburn-haired, green-eyed, one-legged fishbone…"

Gobber winked to the twins and they raced off to find the outlaw in question to reassure him that his father and friends were working every angle they could think of to get him what he deserved. "The lad will probably refuse," he reminded them. "He's more stubborn than ye, Stoick! How he endured under the tortures they put him through amazes me…"

"He's not the same," Astrid murmured. "He goes quiet and his eyes look as if he is experiencing it all again. He's brave but he's not over it yet…" She sighed. "He doesn't deserve all of this." Stoick sighed.

"They have taken so much from him: his home, his name, his honour, his leg…" he said in a low voice. "I will not let him lose the girl he loves and his future as well."

"And I am not losing him!" Astrid stared proudly, her arms folded across her chest.

The twins burst in, both panting and looking harassed.

"He's gone!"

oOo

Dagur's search party had finally dug the entrance to the Cove out and with a few slips and a skinned hand, Hiccup got clumsily down into the little space, the only place he had truly felt safe. Toothless whined at his side, very worried. Hiccup had been silent, walking painfully through the forest until he had returned to his home. His leg was agonising and he knew he should be resting but there was nowhere else he could go. He found his spot on the boulder and drew his legs up, looking across the little lake and wrapping his arms around his legs once more. His throat was thick and he felt utterly empty. His friends would be being pardoned and he…well, he had literally no one he could rely on…

Toothless leapt to his side and gave a little bark. The wolf nuzzled his head against the young outlaw and Hiccup wrapped his arms around the wolf. "At least I have you, bud," he murmured and sighed.

"You have me as well," Astrid said from the entrance. She had galloped at full speed from the castle to the Cove, knowing it would be the place he would choose to go. He looked at her, his green eyes startled.

"How-how did you find me?" he asked her, breathing hard.

"Best friends?" she reminded him, walking confidently forward. "How much time did we spend here when we were children?" He ghosted a smile.

"In a former life," he murmured. "I think Prince Hiccup may be dead…" She scooched up to sit by him, sandwiching him between her body and the wolf.

"He was my best friend," she said gently, her hand closing softly on his. "And he was a kind, patient, brave, decent man who never let anyone down and who never believed his father loved him as much as he did. But then I fell in love with that damned outlaw, Night Fury. That cocky, sarcastic, scoundrel who did just enough to save the kingdom until Stoick the Vast returned. And, of course, for that he is due a pardon-just like everyone else wronged by Spitelout. If only we knew who he was…but he always wears that mask…" Hiccup swallowed.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said hollowly, "and it's kinda sweet, Astrid, but it won't work because I am Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third…and he's been utterly dishonoured…"

"Apart from the obvious…why any family would name someone Hiccup Horrendous Haddock once, let alone three times?…you are free to become someone else," she told him. "You have more than one name…and I really want the Night Fury to come to Berkingham with me. Your father really wants you to come too…"

"You are really persistent, aren't you, Milady?" he asked her dryly. She nodded.

"I have to be because the man I love is stubborn as Hel," she shot back.

"It's served me well so far," he reminded her as she laced her fingers with his, still feeling the breaks.

"I need you with me," she said softly. "I can't face this without you…"

"I'm not sure I can do it," he whispered, leaning his head against hers. "I-I can't face that hatred again…" She turned her head and pressed her lips gently against his.

"Even for me, mister outlaw?" she asked him gently. He sighed, nuzzling into her neck again and closing his eyes.

"You really enjoy seeing me suffer," he breathed. "But for you, Milady…I'll do it…" She snuggled against him.

"You know I love you, don't you?" she asked him and he nodded.

"I've loved you since I was…what, five?" he replied softly. "Of course, I was never worthy and even when our mothers plotted our match, I knew you wouldn't look at a scrawny runt like me. You deserved someone so much better…"

"Until I realised, as you worked and trained and became the impressive man you are now, that there wasn't anyone any better than you, Hiccup," she reminded him. "And when you robbed me-and left me my jewels…I knew it was the same cute, dorky green-eyed boy I played with when I was little…" He sighed.

"Cute?" he repeated. "There goes my fearsome reputation." She kissed him again.

"Get your mask, mister outlaw," she told him commandingly, her eyes glittering with impatience. He reluctantly unwound from her grasp and achingly limped to the space by the little cave and the collapsed lean-to that had been his sleeping place, fishing out the mask that he had forgotten when they escaped. "Now, escort me home, mister outlaw! There are some bad men around here." He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her neck.

"Yeah-and I'm one of them," he murmured as she gasped as his lips gently kissed her neck.

"You, sir, are a very bad man!" she smile and spun round to face him, her lips locking with his again. "And that's the man I want!"


	20. The New Heir To Berk

Gobber handed the report to the King and watched his face crease as he read the words.

"He's rounding the Seastacks?" he asked, lifting his eyes. "His full Armada?" Gobber nodded as Lord Hofferson arrived. "Drago's fleet is close." The Lord frowned.

"What do we do?" he asked. Stoick pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Launch the entire fleet…but bring me the body of his Envoy and one of the copies of the Treaty Spitelout signed with Drago," he said. "Make sure the 'Rumblehorn' is ready and carrying my personal standard. We'll sail out to meet him." Gobber stared at him.

"Anything else?" he asked dryly. "Anyone else yer need?" Stoick nodded and sighed.

"You know who I need," he said. "Fetch him!" And then the King gave a grin. "Drago's fleet can't breach our coastal waters," he said. "Their vessels are too large. And he doesn't want a war with the entire Archipelago. I'm going to broker a truce!"

oOo

The entire Berkian Fleet launched from Berkingham harbour, all fully armed and laden with men, catapults and bola-launchers against Drago's famed armoured dragons. Stoick had also taken the latest weapon…crude mines that Gobber and Hiccup had devised to hole Drago's monster ships if they got too close to the coastline. Resplendent in his armour and helm, the King stood on the deck with Gobber and Lord Hofferson at his side. Hoark and Ack stood behind him, their weapons grasped in their fists.

Drago's enormous flagship was ahead as the fleet sailed forward, their lines tight and standards bravely displayed. Stoick raised his fist and the smaller rowing boat was lowered and pushed towards Drago's ship. The boat sailed straight and true and the King saw men with hooks lean down and drag it in, then haul it up. He hoped Drago would get the message.

The brooding, huge, scar-faced shape of the Prince of Blood walked towards the boat that was sent to them in a pointed message from Berk. He recognised the standard of Stoick the Vast and already realised that Spitelout had failed in his bid for the crown. Drago shifted his dragon-skin cloak and stepped forward, his cold black eyes sweeping over the boat. He jerked his head.

"Remove the tarpaulin!" he growled and his men scuttled to obey, terrified of his ire. The material was pulled away and Drago inspected his message.

The body of Eret was laid in the boat, his hands crossed over his breast. In the centre of his chest, a copy of the Treaty was laid, the signatures of both Drago and Spitelout visible. A dagger bearing the seal of Stoick the Vast was driven through the Treaty and into Eret's heart. There was no blood, showing the whole thing was staged as a warning. Drago flicked his eyes up to the Berk Fleet, waiting and willing to fight for their land. He guessed he could crush them but the people of Berk would resist to the last man and Drago knew the other Kingdoms would unite against him. It wasn't worth it for the wrecked wasteland that Berk would become.

Then he leaned forward and saw a scroll jammed into Eret's dead hand. He pulled it free and inspected it: it was a Truce with Stoick the Vast and Berk, a non-aggression pact. His dead eyes flicked over to the fleet again and just picked out the enormous shape with the flaming hair and enormous beard famous across the Archipelago. The man was a consummate soldier…and his son was also rumoured to be developing into a fine tactician and thoughtful counsellor. There was small gain for enormous risk. There would be better opportunities…one day…

He gestured and a clerk brought up a quill and ink. Drago scrawled his name on the Treaty and pressed his seal into green wax, then nodded to the clerk. The man rolled the Treaty up and tied it with a leather tie. Drago gestured and a trembling small green and red Terrible Terror was brought up. The Treaty was attached to its leg and the dragon was motioned to fly to the Berk flagship. The little dragon took off like a rocket, desperate to get away from Drago. The Prince of Blood guessed he wouldn't see that dragon again…but the small dragon was not his priority: he had far bigger and more powerful creatures at his disposal. He gestured to Eret's body.

"Give it to the sea-dragons!" he growled and walked away, not even pausing to watch his servant tossed over the side like so much trash. "And turn back. It's over!"

Stoick watched the little dragon flap desperately over and land on Gobber's head. There was a struggle but the little dragon finally relinquished its message-though it refused to let go of the old warrior's helmet. With a sigh, a cloaked figure limped up from the stern and prised the little dragon off his mentor then expertly scratched him at the sweet spot under his chin. Gobber gazed at him and gave a grateful smile.

"Thanks, laddie," he grinned. Hiccup sighed, gently scratching the little dragon.

"I may have had a little more practice than you, Gobber," he admitted, walking up to his father. "Did they go for it, Dad?"

"Yes," the King said, scanning the Treaty. There were no amendments, no deletions…Drago had signed as seen and then returned the document. They watched his men toss Eret's body into the ocean and the vast ship begin to turn away. "He accepted everything you wrote, son. And he got the message." Hiccup managed a thin smile from under his hood. As he was completely dishonoured, he wasn't supposed to take part in battle either but he had been smuggled on board as a 'counsellor' which the crew had tacitly accepted. They were aware that he had helped the King in preparing for the encounter.

"Drago is cruel and direct," he sighed. "As was his Envoy. Subtlety really isn't his strong suit. I guessed he would appreciate his brand of straight talking…" Stock clapped him on the shoulder and he almost lost his footing. "Dad! Shifting decks and a new prosthetic leg aren't a great combination!" he protested.

"Nonsense, son!" Stoick grinned. "You'll be leaping about in no time!" Hiccup looked away and scratched the little dragon absently. It was purring and nuzzling his hand affectionately. "Looks like you've made a new friend," he added. Hiccup nodded, pulling his attention back to the present.

"I can use all the friends I can get," he said wearily. Stoick walked to him and wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

"Hiccup, I will solve this," he said gently. "Trust me, please? Just…do as I ask, this once? No wolves or orphans or dragons or anything wild and unusual. Just for once…trust me!" Hiccup met his kindly gaze and nodded.

"As you wish, sire," he sighed. "But I'm not sure the people of Berk will ever accept me!"

oOo

The next day, there was another celebration to give thanks for the new Treaty with Drago and the town was buzzing with happy and quite drunken Berkians. This time, there was another ceremony being held in the Great Hall, before the assembled nobles, commanders, lead burghers, artisans, priests and staff of Berkingham. The King was back in his throne, draped in his treasured bearskin cloak, his armour otherwise clean and functional. Gobber and Lord Hofferson stood at each side of his throne as his trusted counsellors and Lady Astrid stood at her father's side in a gown of ivory silk, trimmed with azure. A gold belt wound around her slender waist and the little axe pendant was around her neck. She looked pale and worried.

Stoick swept his cool grey-green gaze over the audience. "I must ask you one last time: will you not rescind your judgement against my son?" he said clearly.

"No," the lead Guildsman-the head of the fisherman's guild, a short, round and very hairy man named Mulch-announced. "The Ceremony was conducted as the law and the people had a chance to stand by him or condemn him…"

"Under threat of death," the King growled.

"It was legal. The people spoke…and for a long, long time." That much had been true, Astrid recalled with a wince.

"And my son, who served you all his life…is just ruined because you refuse to admit the whole farce was illegal and coerced?" Stoick growled.

"We only says as we see," the Guildsman said stubbornly. Stoick rolled his eyes.

"Then I will do as I feel must be done in the interests of justice!" he announced. "And that means reversing the judgements of Spitelout against those wrongfully condemned for actions in upholding my rule and protecting my people!" He swept his hand around. "Lord Hofferson was declared traitor and his lands stolen by the crown. I reverse that decision and restore the lands, monies and honour to my loyal servant. Likewise, Major Gobber, who was condemned to be executed and was saved from the block by my son, is restored to his honours and position as my most trusted counsellor and head of security in the castle. My son's sentence for treason is stricken from the record with the contempt such a charge deserves!" He stood and beckoned the group standing awkwardly at the back of the Hall to walk forward between the ranks of the audience.

"These people defied the rule of Spitelout and helped countless citizens, chasing off raiding parties, restoring food and money and stolen family members, distributing taxes and trying to mitigate the evil my treacherous brother poured on my land!" the King announced. He swept his hand over the entire, suddenly self-conscious group. "You are all pardoned your crimes. And I am willing to restore your former jobs…or a new one if you prefer…" Fishlegs gulped: he reckoned he should probably go first.

"Um, sire…I used to be a clerk but I think…if you don't mind…I would rather turn my hand to baking…" he said timidly. Stoick gave a broad grin.

"Well done, Fishlegs!" he boomed. "I am certain you will be a great success-especially if your cheese and onion bread is anything to go by! And I think you need a Royal Commission just to get you on your feet…" The husky boy blushed tomato red and stuttered thanks. The twins shared a look.

"Sire, we were both guards and it kinda suited so if you don't mind…" Tuff began.

"We would really like to be guards again!" Ruff concluded.

"And keep being allowed to blow stuff up!" Tuff added. Stoick nodded.

"Gobber-they're all yours!" he said with a grin.

"Is it too late to retire?" the warrior quipped, his eyes twinkling.

Each of the little gang was treated to the same consideration by the King until every last one was dealt with. And then he looked up. "Finally," he announced, "we have your leader-the Outlaw known as Night Fury…"

There were murmurs in the Hall but Stoick silenced then with a sweep of his ferocious glare. "All Outlaws will be pardoned if they swear fealty to the crown. That is my will!"

And at the far end of the Hall, a shape emerged, swathed in a black cloak and hood, his face covered by a tooled leather mask that concealed his entire face apart from his stunning green eyes. He walked with a limp, his gait uneven and pained. His tunic was a deep forest green and a plain leather sword belt was fastened round his narrow waist with a study sword on his hip. His leggings were a dark plain brown and his right boot was a scuffed brown. His left foot was replaced by a cunningly-crafted metal prosthesis. He was lean and lanky and just a little wary as he walked up to the throne. He bowed his head, then dropped to a knee.

"Sire, my sword is ever yours," he announced, his voice muffled by the mask. Stoick laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I accept your loyalty, Night Fury," he replied clearly, "and grant you the pardon your unswerving loyalty deserves. And in recognition of your deeds in protecting my Kingdom and my people…" He unsheathed his own sword and gently tapped it once on each shoulder. "I name you a Knight of Berk. Furthermore, in gratitude for your sacrifices which have been so great in personal terms, I endow you with the lands, honours and titles that once belonged to my own son." The outlaw dipped his head.

"Sire, I am grateful beyond all words," he said, his voice a little choked. The King offered him a hand and he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, starting as the King's hand tightened round his shoulder in a paternal gesture as the outlaws began to clap and cheer, the twins whooping and whistling. A ripple of applause ran through the room that grew louder until the audience really joined in.

"I really am very proud of you," the King said in a low voice that the watchers couldn't hear before quietening them down and asking more loudly: "Now is there any boon you wish to ask from me?" Night Fury sighed.

"Not you-no, sire," he admitted. "You have been more than generous to this undeserving wretch. But Lord Hofferson?" Stoick nodded. "I am sure I am unworthy…but nonetheless…" He sighed and lifted his chin. "May I request the hand of your daughter, the Lady Astrid, in marriage?" The Lord made a show of considering the request then nodded, his eyes twinkling.

"If my daughter consents, then so be it," he said sternly. The outlaw turned to the girl and he inclined his head.

"Milady? Would you do me the incomparable honour of becoming my wife, of threatening me with your axe whenever you fancy, of enduring my sarcasm and dubious wit and my undying love and affection?" She smiled and sidled up to him, her blue eyes relieved.

"When you put it like that, how could a girl refuse, Sir Outlaw?" she grinned. Night Fury wrapped his arms around her middle and swung her round to a renewed burst of cheering. Stoick glanced up.

"Do we have a Priest of Freya in the Hall?" he called. There was a scuffle between three priests and eventually an older man with thinning grey hair in the familiar robes pushed through the laughing and cheering crowd. The people of Berk loved a show. The outlaw snapped his head round to stare at the King and his green eyes widened behind the mask.

"Er…sire?" he murmured. "Isn't this a bit…impulsive?" Stoick just grinned and in desperation, the young man turned to his prospective bride. "Astrid?"

"Are you chickening out on me, Mister Outlaw?" she teased him, hearing the uncertainty in his voice.

"Um, I think it's Sir Outlaw, but I don't want you to feel you have to do anything you don't want to…especially just for me…" he replied in a low voice. She snuggled against him and stared into the angst-ridden eyes.

"This is what I want," she said slowly, "but are you telling me that you don't want to…" He shook his head frantically.

"No. NO!" he protested. "This is everything I could ever want…but I have so little to offer you now…it wouldn't be right to impoverish you when you are a Lady…" She took his hands.

"Apart from the fact you have just been awarded half a dozen manors and titles and a fifth of Berk, you are all I want," she assured him. "The rest can take care of itself." He bowed his head in defeat, knowing there was no way he could dissuade Astrid Hofferson.

"I'll have to refurbish the Cove," he sighed as the Priest walked forward.

"Firstly…in front of Freya, Odin and the Aesir, does anyone assembled here have any objection against the union of this man, the former outlaw and now Knight of Berk, Night Fury to Lady Astrid Hofferson, heir to Scauldron Bay?" the man announced, his dry voice cutting through the hubbub. His glacial blue eyes swept across the room and there was no reply. "Who stands with this man?"

"I do!" Ruff called, followed by her twin.

"I do!" Fishlegs announced and stood by Ruff with a small smile. She elbowed him lightly.

"I do!" Gobber called and limped up to stand behind the cloaked shape. Night Fury started and half-turned to his friend. Gobber offered a broad grin.

"I do!" the King announced and stood behind the young outlaw to the gasps of the crowd. He gulped and stared at his bride to be. She was grinning broadly.

"And who gives this woman?" the priest intoned.

"I do!" Lord Hofferson announced. The priest took the couple's hands and tied his sash loosely around them, binding them together.

"Who bears the rings?"

"I got them right here…" Gobber announced and Night Fury's head snapped round to stare at the old warrior. Gobber produced a soft leather pouch from his pocket. "I may have been a bit busy last night in the forge…" Gobber mumbled. Night Fury could hear Astrid chuckling now and turned back to his wife to be.

"Keeping secrets, Milady?" he asked in a low voice. She nodded.

"Only important ones…" she giggled and tightened her grip possessively on his hand.

The ceremony went smoothly and there were cheers when the rings were exchanged and the Priest raised his hands, the tail end of the sash still in one.

"Before Freya, Odin and the Gods, this man and this woman are joined in marriage, to love and support and honour each other for the rest of their lives!" he announced and pulled the sash away, leaving their hands clasped. Cheers roared through the Hall and Astrid leaned closer to the outlaw.

"I think you're supposed to kiss me now," she murmured. He pushed his hood back, revealing his tousled auburn mop and sighed.

"I know this part," he admitted and flipped the mask back up onto the top of his head, then leaned closer to pull her into a very deep and loving kiss, his arms sliding down her back to her waist and her hands clasping his cheeks. Finally, they broke apart and turned-to the gasps of the crowd.

"What is this?" Mulch and a dozen others asked. Stoick gave a broad grin.

"You have cast out and utterly and wrongfully dishonoured my son, Prince Hiccup, and refused to allow me to welcome my boy back to his rightful home-despite his innocence," he announced. "But you welcomed my pardon of all the outlaws-including the Night Fury. You cheered as he was honoured with a knighthood and bestowed with all the lands, titles and honours that my son once owned. You cheered as he was wed to the Lady Hofferson. And now he faces you. The dishonour that you so unjustly levied on my son Hiccup has nothing to do with Sir Fury." The Guildsmen stared.

"But…but…"

Stoick folded his arms. "It is, as you would say, the law," he growled. "Night Fury has all my son's lands and honours…including his title as Prince of Berk and Heir to the Throne." Hiccup spun to face his father, Astrid still clutched in his arms.

"WHAT?" he gasped. Stoick grinned with Gobber winking and Lord Hofferson nodding proudly behind him. Suddenly, Hiccup knew who had contrived the whole thing. Toothless poked his head out from behind the throne where he had been ordered to stay, his mouth open and teeth showing in his familiar smile before walking to press against his master's leg. Hiccup automatically rubbed the wolf, feeling a little light-headed.

"Prince Fury, I presume you and Princess Astrid will reside here in Berkingham until you build yourselves a small Hall of your own…" the King asked them. Hiccup's jaw dropped.

"H-Hall? As in…building?"

"Mmm…Princess Astrid…I could get to like that…" Astrid murmured, smiling at Hiccup's astonished face.

"I suppose the Cove is definitely out the question now?" he sighed. She tightened her grip on him.

"I suppose Prince Fury…and King Fury…are much better than Prince Hiccup…" she smiled as the crowd began to clap, deciding they admired the determination to honour the man who had restored taxes, released stolen children and thwarted the evil Sheriff and Spitelout. It was a good show and the people of Berk were suckers for a happy ending. Even the Guildsmen were grudgingly clapping now.

"I liked being Prince Hiccup," he grumbled lightly. "I mean, not the greatest name but I was kinda used to it…and it suited my general uselessness…"

"And while Fury is a much more Kingly name, you can still be my Hiccup," she hummed into his neck. He kissed the top of her head lightly. Behind them, the twins were chanting:

"Prince Fury…Prince Fury…Prince Fury…" And the crowd were taking up the chant as well. Stoick winked at his son and Hiccup turned back to his new wife.

"You were in on this?" he asked her quietly. She grinned and nodded.

"Best friends," she reminded him. "And now you are all mine!" He leaned towards her and stared into her triumphant eyes then he finally gave a small smirk.

"And I'll always be yours," he said softly. "If I'd known it would end like this, I would have got condemned for treason years ago! You are worth everything I had to go through…my Princess Astrid, Milady Outlaw…"

She felt her eyes prickle with tears at his tone and kissed him once more, reading the happiness and gratitude in his luminous green eyes. "Oh no-you're not getting up to any more shenanigans…" she warned him. He smirked and gave her a very self-confident smile.

"At least for this afternoon…" he muttered in her ear and she blushed furiously at the implication. "Milady…" he purred and she buried her face in his chest, a smile stretching her lips. This was the cocky outlaw she had fallen for.

"My husband…Sir Outlaw, my Prince of Thieves," she whispered to the cheers of the people of Berk.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Supplementary A/N: In case you were wondering who is who in the 'Robin Hood Universe' here is the Cast:
> 
> Please note-not all of the characters here completely align with their counterparts in the Original Robin Hood story…because it's a 'reimagining' (horrible term). For example, Fishlegs fulfils some of the Little John role but not all. And there is no one who would fit the twins! But these are who I feel the characters are more closely aligned with. I'm sure you have your own opinions…
> 
> Robin Hood - Hiccup
> 
> Marian - Astrid
> 
> Marian's Father- Lord Hofferson
> 
> Tuck - Gobber
> 
> King Richard - Stoick
> 
> Prince John - Spitelout
> 
> Sheriff of Nottingham- Alvin
> 
> Guy of Gisbourne- Dagur (+Eret)
> 
> Will Scarlet - Toothless (yes, really)
> 
> Much - Gustav
> 
> Little John - Fishlegs
> 
> Alan-a-Dale / other outlaws- Ruffnut and Tuffnut
> 
> The traditional story doesn't really have an equivalent for the Heather or Snotlout characters in this tale.


End file.
